■:.'mm THE I HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER: A. COLLECTIOIf OF DECLAMATIONS, POETIC PIECES AND DIALOilDES, FOR THE USE OF BOYS IN INTERMEDIATE SCHOOLS AND ACADEMES. BY PROF. J. G. ZACHOS, A. M., AUTHOR OP THE " NEW AMERICAN SPEAKER," "LYCEUM SPEAKER," ETC. — -^inr ^ ^^^i>,.^j^.. CINCII^KATI: PUBLISHED BY RICKEY, MALLORY & CO. 1 /^S^ ^3 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 3858, by RICKEY, MALLORY & CO., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District of Ohio. PREFACE. This book is intended for the use of boys from twelve to sixteen. It is intermediate between the Primary School Speaker and the Lyceum Speaker, by the same Author. An experience of some years in teaching boys Elocution, is embodied in this selection of pieces. The age from twelve to sixteen is the turning period of a boy's life as to his becoming a speaker, or, indeed, any thing else. The pieces selected for them should be short, and chosen for their Tiigh spirit and condensed power. Nothing tame will be accepted by a boy of this age. It is a great mistake to set him to commit any thing that has not genius and fire in it. This discourages him, and disgusts him with the exercise at the outset. But not only must the sentiment be expressed with great force and eloquence, or with an ingenious turn of wit or humor, but the thought and feeling must be of that universal kind that owes its interest ( iii ) IV PREFACE. to no mere local or educational associations, but to the common, sjpontaneous interests of the human heart. It is with this idea in view that the following selections have been made. That it may usefully advance this noble art of speaking in schools of a country wTiere speaMng is jpoioev^ is the earnest hope of the Author. CONTENTS PART I. DECLAMATION, PAQB. Preface, 3 Ch:ii-;icter of True Eloquence 9 Phillips on the Policy of England, 10 America — Ilcr Example, 11 Ireland, 12 Speech of Patrick Henry, 13 The Same, Continued, 15 Brutus Justifying the Assassination of Caesar, 17 Hamlet's Address to the Players, 18 The Boston Massacre, 19 Hannibal to the Carthaginian Army, 20 Advocating the Revolution, 21 Holla to the Peruvians, 22 Speech of Belial, Dissuading War, 23 Ca3i;u's Triumphs, 24 Reply to the Reflections of Mr. Walpole,. 25 Grattan's Reply to Mr. Corry 27 Catiline, on Hearing his Sentence of Banishment, 29 The Irish Disturbance Bill, 30 Tiie Miseries of Ireland, 31 Queer Sermon on a Queer Text 33 Humorous Account of English Taxes, 34 Our Republic, 35 Supposed Speech of John Adams, in Eavor of the Declaration of Independence,.. 3G The Same, Continued, 38 39 Bobadil's Militaiy Tactics, 40 Speech Obituary, 41 The Sword of Washington, and the Staff of Franklin 42 The Age of Washington, 44 Adams and JeQ'erson, 44 Webster's Reply to Hayne, 46 Chatham on the American Revolution, 47 The Queen of France 49 Adherbal against Jugurtha 50 The Passing of the Rubicon 51 From Cicero's Oration against Verres, .... 52 Meeting (if Death and Sjitan, 54 Quarrel of Achilles and Atrides 55 The Same, Continued, 56 57 Employment of Indians in Civilized Warfare, 58 Moloch and Satan before the Powers of Hell, fiO The Same, Continued, 61 Marullus to the Mob, 62 Speech of Raab Kiuprili, 63 Prince Lewis' Answer to the Pope's Legate, G5 The Murderer's Secret, 66 The Tomahawk Submissive to Eloquence, i 67 (y) VI CONTENTS. Public Dishonesty -yS The Peifect Orator, 69 Reply to the Duke of Grafton, 70 Necessity of a Pure National Morality, 71 The Federal Union, 72 Specimen of the Eloquence of James Otis, 73 Massachusetts, 74 The Right of England to Tax America, 75 Character of Napoleon Bonaparte, 76 A Political Pause 77 Prevaler.oe of War, 79 Phillips on the Wrongs of Ireland, 80 Saluthiel to Titus, 81 PART II. POETIC PIECES. 1 Don't Care, ...^ 84 The Kaiser, 85 Bernardine Du Born, 86 The American Patriot's Song, 88 The Flight of Xerxes, 88 The Tillage Blacksmith, 90 Bernardo and King Alphonso, 91 The Battle of Bannockburn, 93 Henry V, at the Siege of Ilarflem-, 94 Henry V, Encouraging his Soldiers, 95 New Eniiland's Dead, 96 Arnold Winkelreid 97 Look not upon the Wine, 99 The Vengeance of Mudara, 100 The Fireman, 101 Battle of Waterloo, 102 The Pounder, K3 Marco Bozzaris, 1C4 The Burial of Sir John Moore, 107 The Spider and the Bee, ]08 Death-song of Outalissi, ]09 The Bended Bow, Ill Lochinvar, ] 12 The Yision of Belshazzar, 1 14 War-song of the Greeks, 1822 115 What is Time, 116 Boadicea, 117 The Grave of the Greyhound, 118 The Mummjs 121 The American Flag, 123 Parting of Douglas and Marmion, 124 The Old Oaken Bucket, 126 Warren's Address, 127 The Gipsy Wanderer, 128 Glenara, 129 Casablanca, 130 The Song of Constance, 132 The Destruction of Sennacherib, 133 The Battle of Busaco 134 Pulaski's Banner, 135 Ginevra 137 Horatius at the Bridge, 133 A Roman Battle, 141 The Death of Leonidas, 144 Song of Mac Murrough, 145 Elijah's Interwiew with God, 147 The Love of Country and of Home 148 CONTENTS. Vli The African Cliief, ]49 Goody IJlake aad Huny Gill, 151 What 's Hallowed Ground, 153 The Seminole's Reply, 154 Spirit of Patriotism, , 15(5 The Life-Iwat, 15(J Take Heed, 157 Flight of the Muskoicee Indian, 158 The Chieftain's Daughter 159 The Mothers of the West, IGO The Tread of Time, 161 The Young American, 162 Degeneracy of Modern Greece, 163 Hohenlinden, 164 Thermojjyke, 165 Ti\e Indian's Revcnsre, 16G Battle of Flodden Field,.. 167 The Same, Continued, 169 An Appeal to Patriotism, 170 Meet the Foe, 171 Ambition, False and True, 171 Tengeance, 172 The Alarm, 173 Aspiration of Youth, 173 Liberty, 174 The Snow Storm, 175 PART III. POETIC PIECES COMIC. Account of a Bachelor, 176 Queer Mistake, 177 Getting a Degree, 177 The Boy and the Baker, 178 The Chameleon, 179 Boxiana, 181 The Frenchman and the Rats, 182 Miss Mary, — what She is and what She does, 184 Not a Sous had He crot, 185 An Address to the Echo, 186 Flogging an Editor, 1?8 Thanksgiving Day, '. 189 The Collegian and the Janitor, 190 J ohn Littlej ohn, . . . ; 193 The Philosopher's Scales, 194 Phaethon, or the Amateur Coachman, 196 Orator Putf, 199 A Visit from St. Nicholas 200 E 1 egy on Mi-s . Bl a i;:e, . . . . : 202 Is it Anyljody's Business, 203 Toby Tosspot, 204 Logic, 205 Apology for the Pig, 207 The Duel, 208 Frank Hayman, 210 A Grecian Fable, 212 The Country Bumpkin and Razor Seller, 213 Queen Mab 215 The Rich Man and the Poor Man, 216 Will Waddle, 217 The Nimmei-s 219 The Farmer and the Counselor, • £20 Hodge and the Ticar, 221 One Good Tui-u deserves auoUier 5i23 Vlll CONTENTS. Truth in Parentheses, 224 The Wind in a Frolic, 225 The Cold-water Man, 226 The Atheist and Acorn, 228 The Removal,. 229 Histoiy of John'Day, 230 The Alai-med Skipper, S32 The Three Black Crows, 233 The Gouty Merchant and the Stranger, 23.5 Misconception, 236 The Apple-Dumplings and George III, 237 The Dii-ecting Post 238 PART IV. DIALOGUES — SERIOUS. The Two Robbers, 240 The Ilak on Jarl, 242 Prince Arthur of Bretagne, 245 The Evil Adviser, 249 Physiognomy, 254 Kindness Recommended, 257 Deportment, 258 Pride, 2G0 William Tell 2ii2 Rolla and Alonzo, 267 King James and Roderick Dhu, 270 Quarrel of Brutus and Cassius, 275 The Triumph of JuUus Caesar, 280 PART V. DIALOGUES COMIC. Passion for Argument, 2f 3 The Embryo Lawjer, 21i0 The Letter, 294 The Unprincipled Lawyer, 29Q The English Traveler, 3(J2 The Dandy, 305 Launcelot and his Father Gobbo, 308 The American Antiquary, 311 Revolutionary Enthusiasm, 315 Captain Tackle and Jack Bowlin, 318 Money makes the Mare go, 322 The Miller of Mansfield,, 326 The Sick in his own Despite, 330 Irish Coiu'tesy,. 332 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. PART. I. jD:ECLAj^ivLJ^rrxoN. CHARACTER OF TRUE ELOQUENCE. "When public bodies are to be addressed on momen- tous occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions 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 produce conviction. True elo- quence, 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 marshaled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire after it — they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the burst- ing forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original^ native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments, and studied contrivances of speech, shock a'nd disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate -of their wives, their children, and their country, hang on the decision of the hour. Then, words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory con- ( 9 ) 10 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. temptible. Even genius itself then feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then, patriotism is eloquent ; then, self-devotion is eloquent. The clear conception, outrunning the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole man on- ward, right onward to his object — this, this is elo- quence ; or rather, it is something greater and higher than all eloquence, — ^it is action, noble, sublime, god- like action. [Wel«ter. PHILLIPS ON THE POLICY OF ENGLAND. But what has England done for Europe ? what has she achieved for man ? Have morals been ameliorated ? Has liberty been strengthened ? Has any one improve- ment in politics or philosophy been produced ? Let us see how. You have restored to Portugal a prince of whom we know nothing, except that, when his domin- ions were invaded, his people distracted, his crown in danger, and all that could interest the highest energies of man at issue, he left his cause to be combated by foreign bayonets, and fled with a dastard precipitation to the shameful security of a distant hemisphere ! You have restored to Spain a wretch of even worse than pro- verbial princely ingratitude ; who filled his dungeons, and fed his rack with the heroic remnant that braved war, and famine, and massacre beneath his banners ; who rewarded patriotism with the prison, fidelity with the torture, heroism with the scafibld, and piety with the Inquisition ; whose royalty was published by the signa- ture of his death-warrants, and whose religion evapor- THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 11 ated in the einbroideriiig of petticoats for the Blessed Virgin! You have forced upon France a family to whom misfortune could teach no mercy, or experience wisdom ; vindictive in prosperity, servile in defeat, timid in the field, vacillating in the cabinet ; suspicion amongst themselves, discontent amongst their followers; their memories tenacious but of the punishments they had provoked, their piety active but in subserviency to their priesthood, and their power passive but in the sub- jugation of their people ! Such are the dynasties you have conferred on Europe. In the very act, that of enthroning three individuals of the same family, you have committed in politics a capital error ; but Provi- dence has countermined the ruin you were preparing, and whilst the impolicy presents the chance, their im- potency precludes the danger of a coalition. AMEKICA — HER EXAMPLE. Americans ! you have a country vast in extent, and embracing all the varieties of the most salubrious climes; held not by charters wrested from unwilling kings, but the bountiful gift of the Author of nature. The exuberance of your population is daily divesting the gloomy wilderness of its rude attire, and splendid cities rise to cheer the dreary desert. You have a gov- ernment deservedly celebrated " as giving the sanctions of law to the precepts of reason ;" presenting, instead of the rank luxuriance of natural licentiousness, the cor- rected sweets of civil liberty. You have fought the battles of freedom, and enkindled that sacred flame which now glows with vivid fervor through the greatest empire in Europe. We indulge the sanguine hope, that 12 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. her equal laws and virtuous conduct will hereafter afford examples of imitation to all surrounding nations ; that the blissful period will soon arrive when man shall be elevated to his primitive character ; when illumin- ated reason and regulated liberty shall once more ex- hibit him in the image of his Maker ; when all the inhabitants of the globe shall be freemen and fellow- citizens, and patriotism itself be lost in universal philan- thropy. Then shall volumes of incense incessantly roll from altars inscribed to liberty. Then shall the innumerable varieties of the human race unitedly " worship in her sacred temple, whose pillars shall rest on the remotest corners of the earth, and whose arch will be the vault of heaven." [phiiups. lEELAND Ireland, with her imperial crown, now stands before you. You have taken her Parliament from her, and she appears in her own person, at your bar. Will you dismiss a kingdom without a hearing? Is this your answer to her zeal^ to h.Qvfait7i^ to the blood that has so profusely graced your march to victory, — to the treasures that have decked your strength in peace ? Is her name nothing, — her fate indifferent ? are her contributions in- significant, — her six millions revenue, — her ten millions trade, — her two millions absentee, — her four millions loan ? Is such a country not worth a hearing ? Will you, can you dismiss her abruptly from your bar? You can not do it, — the instinct of England is against it. We may be outnumbered now and again ; but in calcu- lating the amount of the real sentiments of the people, THE nian school speaker. 13 the ciphers that swell the evanescent majorities of an evanescent minister go for nothing. Can Ireland forget the memorable era of 1788 ? Can others forget the munificent hospitality with which she then freely gave to her chosen hope all that she had to give ? Can Ireland forget the spontaneous and glow- ing cordiality with which her favors were then received ? Never! Kever! Irishmen grew justly proud in the consciousness of being the subjects of a gracious predi- lection, — a predilection that required no apology, and called for no renunciation, — a predilection that did equal honor to him who felt it, and to those who were the objects of it. It laid the grounds of a great .and fervent hope, — all a nation's wishes crowding to a point, and looking forward to one event, as the great coming, at which every w^ound was to be healed, every tear to be wiped away. The hope of that hour beamed with a cheering warmth and a seductive brilliancy. Ireland followed it with all her heart, — a leading light through the wdlderness, and brighter in its gloom. She followed it over a wide and barren waste : it has charmed her through the desert ; and now, that it has led her to the confines of light and darkness, — now, that she is on the borders of the promised land, is the prospect to be sud- denly obscured, and the fair vision oi princely faith to vanish forever! — I will not believe it, — I require an act of Parliament to vouch its credibility, — nay nore, I demand a miracle to convince me that it is possible ! [Grattan. SPEECH OF PATRICK HENRY, Before the Virginia Convention of Delegates, March, 1775. Me. President, it is natural for man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes 14 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is it the part of wise men, engaged in the great 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, and to provide for it. 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, judg- ing by the past, I wish to know, what there has been in the conduct of the British ministiy, 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 petition 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 gi-acious reception of our petition comports with those warlike prepara- tions, which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets aud 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 motive for it ? Has Great Britain any other enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 15 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 ministers have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose them ? Siiall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we any thing new to offer on the sub- ject ? 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 entreaty and humble supplication ? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted ? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive our- selves longer. Sir, we have done every thing that could be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned, — we have remonstrated, — we have suppli- cated, — we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyran- nical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted ; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our suppli- cations have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne. THE SAME CONTINUED. 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 stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction ? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by 16 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEA! 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. Three millions of people armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Beside, sir, we shall not fight alone. There is a just God who presides over the des- tinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone, — it is to the active, theVigilant, the brave. Beside, sir, we have no election ! If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no re- treat, — ^but in submission 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. 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 w^ould they have ? Is life s«r dear, or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it. Heaven! — I know not what course others ma}^ take, but as for me, — give me liberty, or give me death. [Patrick Henry. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 17 BRUTUS JUSTIFYING THE ASSASSINATION OF CiLSAIl. Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for my cause ; and be silent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor; and have respect to mine honor, that you may believe. Censure me rn your wisdom ; and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. K there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Csesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Csesar, this is my answer, — not that 1 loved N; Ctesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Csesar were living, and die all slaves, than that Csesar were dead, to live all freemen? As Csesar 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. There are tears, for his love; joy, for his fortune; honor, for his valor; and death for his ambition. Who's here so base, that would be a bondman ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who 's here so rude, that would not be a Roman ? K any, speak; for him have I offended. Who's here so vile, that will not love his country? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. I^one ! Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Csesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the capitol ; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offenses enforced, for which he suffered death. Here comes his body, mourned by Marc Antony; who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, — a place in the commonwealth ; 2 18 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. as which of yon shall not ? "With this I depart ; that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death. [Shakspeare. HAMLET'S ADDEESS TO THE PLAYERS. 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-criers spoke my lines. IS'or 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. 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 ground- lings ; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise : I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termageus ; it out-herods Herod : I pray you avoid it. Be 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 ob- servance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature ; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was, and is, to hold, as it were, the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now this, overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskillful laugh, can not but make the judicious grieve ; the censure of which one, must in your allowance o'erweigh a whole theater of others. O ! there be play- THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 19 ers, 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- tian, Pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. [shakspeare. THE BOSTON MASSACKE. " Tell me, ye bloody butchers ! ye villains high and low? ye wretches who conti'ived, as well as you who. excuted, the inhuman deed ! do you not feel the goads and stings of conscious guilt pierce through your savage bosoms ? Though some of you may think yourselves exalted to a height that bids defiance to the arms of human justice, and others shroud yourselves beneath the mask of hypocrisy, and build your hopes of safety on the low arts of cunning, chicanery, and falsehood ; yet do you not sometimes feel the gnawings of that worm which never dies ? Do not the injured shades of Maver- ick, Gray, Caldwell, Attucks, and Carr, attend you in your solitary walks, arrest you even in the midst of your debaucheries, and fill even your dreams with terror ? "Ye dark, designing knaves! ye murderers! parri- cides I how dare you tread upon the earth which has drank in the blood of slaughtered innocents, shed by your wicked hands? How dare you breathe that air which wafted to the ear of Heaven the "groans of those who fell a sacrifice to your accursed ambition ? But, if the laboring earth does not expand her jaws; .if the air you breathe is not commissioned to be the minister 20 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. of death ; yet hear it, and tremble ! the eye of Heaven peneti-ates the darkest chambers of the soul ; traces the leading clew through all the labyrinths wliich your industrious folly has devised ; and you, however you may have screened yourselves trofn human eyes, must be arraigned, must lift your hands, red with the blood of those whose deaths you have procured, at the tre- mendous bar of God." |-john Haacook. HANis^IBAL TO THE CARTHAGINIAN ARMY. On what side soever I tm'n my eyes, I behold all full of courage and strength. A veteran infantry ; a most gallant cavahy : you, my allies most faithful and val- iant ; you Carthaginians, whom not only your country's cause, but the justest auger impels to battle. The hope, the courage of assailants, is always greater than of those who act upon the defensive. With hostile banners dis- played you are come down upon Italy : you bring the war. Grief, injuries, indignities, fire your minds and spur you forward to revenge. First, they demanded me, that I, your general, should be delivered up to them ; next, of all you who had fought at the siege of Sagun- tum ; and we were to be put to death by the extremest tortures. Proud and cruel nation ! Every thing must be yours, and at your disposal. You are to prescribe to us with whom we shall make war, with whom we shall make peace. Tou are to set us bounds ; to shut us up within hills and rivers ; but you, you are not to observe the limits which yourselves have fixed ! " Pass not the Iberns." What next? "Touch not the Sagun- tines ; Saguntum is upon the Iberus, move not a step toward that city." Is it a small matter then, that you THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 21 have deprived us of our ancient possessions, Sicily and Sardinia ? you would have Spain too. Well ; we shall yield Spain, and then, — you will pass into Africa. Will pass, did I say ? — this very year they ordered one of their consuls into Africa, the other into Spain. ^N'o, soldiers ; there is nothing left to us but what we can vindicate with our swords. Come on, then. Be men. The Romans may, with more safety, be cowards : they have their own country behind them, have places of refuge to fly to, and are secure from danger in the roads thither ; but, for you, there is no middle fortune be- tween death and victory. Let this be but well fixed in your minds : and once again I say, you are conquerors. ADVOCATING THE KEVOLUTION. Be not deceived, my countrymen. Believe not these venal hirelings, when they would cajole you by their subtleties into submission, or frighten you by their vaporings into compliance. When they strive to flatter you by the terms "moderation and prudence," tell them that calmness and deliberation are to guide the judg- ment ; courage and intrepidity command the action. When they endeavor to make us " perceive our inabil- ity to oppose our mother country," let us boldly an- swer ; — " In defense of our civil and religious rights, we dare oppose the world ; with the God of armies on our side ! even the God who fought our fathers' battles ! we fear not the hour of trial, though the hosts of our enemies should cover the field like locusts. If this be enthusiasm, we will live and die enthusiasts." O, my countrymen ! what will our children say, when they read the history of these times, should they 22 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. find that we tamely gave away without one noble sti'ug- gle, the raost invaluable of earthly blessings ? As they dmg the galling chain, will they not execrate us ! If we have any respect for things sacred, — any regard to the dearest treasure on earth ; if we have one tender senti- ment for posterity ; if we would not be despised by the whole world, — let us, in the most open, solemn manner, and with determined fortitude, swear — We will die, if we can not live freemen 1 While we have equity, justice, and God on our side, tyranny, spiritual or temporal, shall never ride triumph- ant in a land inhabited by Englishmen, [Quincy. EOLLA TO THE PERUYIANS. My brave associates — ^partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame! — can E-olla's words add vigor to the vir- tuous energies which inspire your hearts ? — ^N"o ! — You have judged as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea, by which these bold invaders would delude you. — Your generous spirit has compared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can animate their minds and ours. They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule ; — we, for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they hate , — we serve a monarch whom we love, — a God whom we adore. Where'er they move in auger, desolation tracks their progress ! Where'er they pause in amity, afflic- tion mourns their friendship. They boast they come but to iraprove our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 23 error ! — Yes : — they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protection ! — Yes, such protection as vultures give to lambs, — cover- ing and devom'ing them ! They call on us to barter all the good we have inherited and proved, for the des- perate chance of something better, which they promise. Be our plain answer this : — The throne we honor is the people's choice, — the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy, — the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hope of bliss bej^ond the grave. Tell your invaders this, and tell them, too, we seek no change ; and least of all, such change as they would bring us. [Sheridan. SPEECH OF BELIAL, DISSUADIlTa WAK. Wherefoke cease ye then ? Say they, who counsel war — "We are decreed, Reserved, and destined to eternal woe : Whatever doing, what can we suffer more. What can we suffer worse ?" Is this then worst, Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms ? What when we fled amain, pursued and struck With heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought The deep to shelter us ? this hell then seemed A refuge from those wounds ! or when we lay Chained on the burning lake ? that sure was worse. What if the breath that kindled those grim fires. Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage. And plunge us in the flames ? or, from above. Should intermitted vengeance arm again His red right hand to plague ? what if all 24 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Her stores were opened, and this firmament Of hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impending horrors, threatening hideous fall One day upon our heads ; while we, perhaps, Designing or exhorting glorious war, Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled, Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey Of racking whirlwinds ; or forever sunk Under yon boiling ocean, wrapped in chains There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved. Ages of hopeless end ? — this would be worse ; War, therefore, open and concealed, alike My voice dissuades. [Muton. CESAR'S TRIUMPHS. To form a just estimate of Caesar's aims, Mr Presi- dent, look to his triumphs after the surrender of Utica — Utica, more honored in being the grave of Cato, than Rome in having been the cradle of Csesar. You will read, sir, that Caesar triumphed four times. First, for his victory over the Gauls ; secondly, over Egypt ; thirdly, over Pharnaces ; lastly, over Juba, the friend of Cato. His first, second, and third triumphs were, we are told, magnificent. Before him marched the princes and noble foreigners of the countries he had conquered : his soldiers, crowned with laurels, fol- lowed him ; and the whole city attended with acclama- tions. This was well ! — The conqueror should be honored. His fourth triumph approaches — as magnifi- cent as the former ones. It does not want its royal captives, its soldiers crowned with laurels, or its flushed THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 25 conqueror, to grace it ; nor is it less honored by the multitude of its spectators : but they send up no shout of exultation ; they lieave loud sighs ; their cheeks are frequently wiped : their eyes are fixed upon one object, that engrosses all their senses, — their thoughts, — their affections, — it is the statue of Cato ! — carried before the victor's chariot ! It represents him rending open his wound, and tearing out his bowels ; as he did in Utica, when Koman liberty was no more ! Now, ask if Caesar's aim was the welfare of his country! — Kow, doubt if he was a man governed by a selfish ambition ! !Now, question whether he usurped, for the mere sake of usurping! lie is not content to triumph over the Gauls, the Egyptians, and Pharnaces ; he must triumph over his own countrymen ! He is not content to cause the statue of Scipio and Petrius to be carried before him, but he must be graced by that of Cato ! He is not content with the simple effigy of Cato; he must exhibit that of his suicide ! He is not satisfied to insult the Romans with triumphing over the death of liberty ; they must gaze upon the representation of her expiring agonies, and mark the wri things of her last, — fatal struggle ! CKuowies. REPLY TO THE REFLECTIONS OF MR. WALPOLE. Sir, 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 cease with their youth ; and not of that number who are ignorant in spite of experience. 3 26 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. "Whether youth can be imputed to any man as a reproach, I will not, sir, assume the province of deter- mining ; but surely, age may become justly contempti- ble, — if the opportunities which it brings have passed away without improvement, and vice appears to prevail when the passions have subsided. 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 secure him from insult. Much more, sir, is he to be abhorred, — who, as he has advanced in age, has receded from virtue, and becomes more wicked with less temptation ; who prostitutes himself for money which he can not enjoy, and spends the remains of his life in the ruin of his country. But youth, sir, is not my only crime. I have been accused of acting a theatrical part. A theatrical part may either imply, — some peculiari- ties of gesture ; or, dissimulation of my real senti- ments, and the adoption of the opinions and language of another man. In the first sense the charge is too trifling to be con- futed, and deserves only to be mentioned that it may be despised. I am at liberty, like every other man, to use my own language: and though I may, perhaps, have some ambition, yet to please this gentleman, 1 shall not lay myself under any restraint, nor very soli- citously copy his diction, or his mien ; however matured by age, or modeled by experience. 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 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 27 shelter liim from the treatment he deserves. I shall, ou 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 punish- ment. 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 heat that offended them was the ardor of conviction, and that zeal for the service of my country, which neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress. I will not sit un- concerned while my liberty is invaded, nor look in silence upon public robbery. I will exert my endeavors, at whatever hazard, to repel the aggressor, and drag the thief to justice, — whoever may protect them in their villainy, and whoever may partake of their plunder. [Pitt, GKATTAN'S EEPLY TO MR. CORRY. Has the gentleman done ? Has he completely done ? He was unparliamentary from the beginning to the end of his speech. There was scarce a word he uttered that was not a violation of the privileges of the house. But I did not call him to order, — why ? because the limited talents of some men render it impossible for them to be severe without beiug unparliamentary. But before I sit down, I shall show him how to be severe and parlia- mentary at the same time. On any other occasion, I should think myself justi- fiable in treating with silent contempt any thing which might fall from that honorable member ; but there are times, when the insignificance of the accuser is lost in 28 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. the magnitude of the accusation. I know the difficulty the honorable gentleman labored under when he attacked me, conscious that, on a comparative view of our char- acters, public and private, there is nothing he could say which would injure me. The public would not believe the charge. I despise the falsehood. If such a charge were made by an honest man, I would answer it in the manner I shall do before I sit down. But I shall first reply to it when not made by an honest man. The right honorable gentleman has called me " an Tinimpeached traitor." I ask why not "traitor," un- qualified by an epithet? I will tell him, it was because he durst not. It was the act of a coward, who raises his arm to strike, but has not courage to give the blow. I will not call him villain, because it would be unparlia- mentary, and he is a privy counselor. I will not call him fool, because he happens to be chancel or of the exchequer. But I say, he is one who has abused the privilege of Parliament, and freedom of debate, by uttering language, which, if spoken out of the house, I should answer only with a blow. I care not how high his situation, how low his character, how contemptible his speech ; whether a privy counselor or a parasite, my answer would be a blow. He has charged me with being connected with the rebels. The charge is utterly, totally, and meanly false. Does the honorable gentleman rely on the report of the house of lords for the foundation of his assertion ? If he does, I can prove to the committee, there was a physical impossibility of that report being true. But I scorn to answer any man for my conduct, whether he be a political coxcomb, or whether he brought himself into power by a false glare of courage or not. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. CATILINE, ON HEARING HIS SENTENCE OF BANISHMENT. Banished from Eome ! "What 's banished, but set free From daily contact of the things I loathe? "Tried and convicted traitor !" — Who says this? Who'll prove it, at his peril, on my head? Banished? — ^I thank you for 't. It breaks my chains ! I held some slack allegiance till this hour; But now my sword's my own. Smile on, my lords; I scorn to count what feelings, withered hopes, Strong provocations, bitter, burning wrongs, I have within my heart's hot cells shut up, To leave you in your lazy dignities. But here I stand and scoff you : — here I fling Hatred and full defiance in your face. Your consul's merciful. For this all thanks. He dares not touch a hair of Catiline. " Traitor !" I go— but I return. This trial !-— Here I devote your senate ! I 've had wrongs, To stir a fever in the blood of age. Or make the infant's sinew strong as steel. This day's the birth of sorrows ! — This hour's work Will breed proscriptions. Look to your hearth's my lords ; For there henceforth shall sit, for household gods, Shapes hot from Tartarus ! — all shames and crimes ; Wan Treachery, with his thirsty dagger drawn ; Suspicion, poisoning his brother's cup ; ]S"aked Rebellion, with the torch and ax, Making his wild sport of your blazing thrones ; Till anarchy comes down on you like night. And massacre seals Rome's eternal grave. [Croiy. 30 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEE. THE IRISH DISTURBANCE BILL. I DO not rise to fawn or criDge to this house ; I do not rise to supplicate you to be merciful toward the nation to which I belong, — toward a nation which, though subject to England, yet is distinct from it. It is a distinct nation : it has been treated as such by this counti-y, as may be proved by history, and by seven hundred years of tyranny. I call upon this house, as you value the liberty of England, not to allow the present nefarious bill to pass. In it are involved the liberties of England, the liberty of the press, and of every other institution dear to Englishmen. Against the bill I protest in the name of the Irish people, and in the face of Heaven. I treat with scorn the puny and pitiful assertions that grievances are not to be complained of, that our redress is not to be agi- tated ; for, in such cases, remonstrances can not be too strong, agitation can not be too violent, to show to the world with what injustice our fair claims are met, and under what tyranny the people suffer. There are two frightful clauses in this bill. The one which does away with trial by jury, and which I have called upon you to baptize : you call it a court-martial^ — a mere nickname ; I stigmatize it as a revolutionary tribunal. What, in the name of Heaven, is it, if it is not a revolutionary tribunal? It annihilates the trial by jury ; it drives the judge from his bench, — the man who, from experience, could weigh the nice and delicate points of a case, — who could discriminate between the straightforward testimony and the suborned evidence, — who could see, plainly and readily, the justice or in- justice of the accusation. It turns out this man who is THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Bt free, unshackled, unprejudiced, — who has no previous opinions to control the clear exercise of his duty. You do away with that which is more sacred than the throne itself; that for which your king reigns, your lords deliberate, your commons assemble. If ever I doubted before of the success of our agita- tion for repeal, this bill, this infamous bill, the way in which it has been received by the house, the manner in which its opponents have been treated, the personalities to which they have been subjected, the yells with which one of them has this night been greeted, — all these things dissipate my doubts, and tell me of its complete and early triumph. Do you think those yells will be forgotten ? Do you suppose their echo will not reach the plains of my injured and insulted country ; that they will not be whispered in her green valleys, and heard from her lofty hills? Oh! they will be heard there : yes, and they will not be forgotten. The youth of Ireland will bound with indignation ; they will say, '' We are eight millions : and you treat us thus, as though we were no more to your country than the isle of Guernsey or of Jersey !" I have done my duty ; I stand acquitted to my con- science and my countiy: I have opposed this measure throughout; and I now protest against it as harsh, oppressive, uncalled for, unjust, as establishing an infamous precedent by retaliating crime against crime ; as tyrannous, cruelly and vindictively tyrannous. [Daaiel O'Connel. THE MISERIES OF IRELAND. Englishmen, look at Ireland ! what do you behold ? — - beautiful country, with wonderful agricultural and 32 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. commercial advantages, — the link between America and Europe, — the natural resting-place of trade, in its way to either hemisphere; indented with havens, watered by deep and numerous rivers, with a fortunate climate, and a soil teeming with easy fertility, and inhab- ited by a bold, intrepid, and, — with all their faults, — a generous and enthusiastic people. Such is natural Ireland: what is artificial Ireland? Such is Ireland, as God made her: what is Ireland, as England made her? This fine country is laden with a population the most miserable in Europe. Your domestic swine are better housed than the people. Harvests, the most abundant, are reaped by men with starvation in their faces ; famine covers a fruitful soil ; and disease inhales a pure atmos- phere : all the great commercial facilities of the country are lost ; the deep rivers, that should circulate opulence, and turn the machinery of a thousand manufactures, flow to the ocean without wafting a boat or turning a wheel ; and the wave breaks in solitude in the silent magnificence of deserted and shipless harbors. Instead of being a source of wealth and revenue to the empire, Ireland can not defray her own expenses, or pay a single tax. Instead of being a bulwark and fortress, she debilitates, exhausts, and endangers Eng- land, and offers an allurement to the speculators in universal ruin. The great mass of her enormous population is alien- ated and dissociated from the state; the influence of the constituted and legitimate authorities is gone ; a strange, anomalous, and an unexampled kind of government has sprung up from the public passions, and exercises a des- potic sway over the great mass of the community ; while THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEB. 33 the class inferior in numbers, but accustomed to authority, aud infuriated at its loss, are thrown into formidable reaction. The most ferocious passions rage from one extremity of the country to the other. Hundreds and thousands of men, arrayed with badges, gatlier in the south ; and the smaller factions, with discipline and arms, are marshaled in the north. The country is strewed with the materials of civil commotion, and seems like one vast magazine of powder, which a spark might ignite into an explosion that would shake the whole fabric of civil society into ruin, and of which England would perhaps never recover from the shock. [Shiel. QUEER SERMON ON A QUEER TEXT. Beloved, let me crave your attention. I am a little man, come at a short notice, to preach a short sermon, from a short text, to a thin congregation, in an un- worthy pulpit. Beloved, my text is Malt. I can not divide it into sentences, their being none ; nor into words, there being but one. I must, therefore, of necessity, divide it into letters, which I find in my text to be these four,— M. A.L.T. M — is Moral. A — is Allegorical. L — ^is Literal. T — is Theological. -The moral is, to teach you rustics good manners ; therefore, M — my Masters, A — All of you, L — Leave off, T— Tippling. The Allegorical is, when one thing is spoken of and another meant. The thing spoken of is malt ; the thing meant is the spirit of malt, which you rustics make Si THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. M— your Meat, A — ^your Apparel, L — ^your Liberty^ T — ^3^our Trust. The Literal is, according to the letters, M — ^Much, A— Ale, L— Little, T— Trust. The Theological is, according to the effects it works : in some, M — Murder ; in others, A — Adultery ; in all, L — ^Looseness of Life ; and in many, T — Treachery. I shall conclude the subject, — First, by way of exhor- tation. M — my Masters, A— All of you, L — Listen, T— to my Text. Second, by way of caution. M — ^my Masters, A — All of you, L — Look for, T — ^the Truth. Third, by way of communicating the truth, which is this : A Drunkard is the annoyance of modesty ; the spoil of civility ; the destruction of reason ; the robber's agent ; the alehouse benefactor ; his wife's sorrow ; his chil- dren's trouble ; his own shame ; his neighbor's scoff; a walking swill-tub ; the picture of a beast; the monster of a man ! tcodd. HUMOROUS ACCOUNT OF ENGLISH TAXES. Permit me to inform you, my friends, what are the inevitable consequences of being too fond of glory ; — Taxes upon every article which enters into the mouth, or covers the back, or is placed under the foot, — taxes upon every thing which it is pleasant to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste, — taxes upon warmth, light, and loco- motion,- — taxes on every thing on earth, and the waters under the earth, — on every thing that comes from abroad, or is grown at home, — taxes on the raw mate- rial, — taxes on every fresh value that is added to it by the industry of man, — taxes on the sauce which pampers man's appetite, and the drug that restores him to THIU HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. S5 health, — on the ermine which decorates the judge, and the rope which hangs the criminal, — on the poor man's salt, and the rich man's spice, — on the brass nails of the coffin, and the ribbons of the bride, — at bed or board, conchant or levant, we must pay. The school-boy whips his taxed top, — the beardless youth manages his taxed horse, with a taxed bridle on a taxed road ; — and the dying Englishman, pouring his medicine, which has paid seven per cent., into a spoon that has paid fifteen per cent., — flings himself back upon his chintz bed, which has paid twenty-two per cent., — makes his will on an eight-pound stamp, and expires in the arms of an apothecary, who has paid a license of a hundred pounds for the privilege of putting him to death. His whole property is then immediately taxed from two to ten per cent. Besides the probate, large fees are demanded for burying him in the chancel ; his virtues are handed down to posterity on taxed marble ; and he is then gathered to his fathers, — to be taxed no more ! [Sydney smith. OUR REPUBLIC. Greece, lovely Greece, " the land of scholars and the nurse of arms," where sister republics in fair procession chanted the praises of liberty and the gods, — where and what is she ? For two thousand years the oppressor has bound her to the earth. Her arts are no more. The last sad relics of her temples are but the barracks of a ruthless soldiery ; the fragments of her columns and her palaces are in the dust, yet beautiful in ruin. She fell not when the mighty were upon her. Her sons were united at Thermopylae and Marathon ; and the tide of her tri- 36 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. umph rolled back upon the Hellespont. She was con- quered by her own factions. Slie fell by the hands of her own people. The man of Macedonia did not the work of destruction. It was already done, by her own corruptions, banishments, and dissensions. Rome, republican Rome, whose eagles glanced in the rising and setting sun, — where and what is she? The Eternal City yet remains, proud even in her desolation, noble in her decline, venerable in the majesty of religion, and calm as in the composure of death. The malaria has but traveled in the paths worn by her destroyers. More than eighteen centuries have mourned over the loss of her empire. A mortal disease was upon her vitals before Caesar had crossed the Rubicon. The Goths, and Yandals, and Huns, the swarms of the Korth, completed only what was already begun at home. Romans be- trayed Rome. The legions were bought and sold, but the people offered the tribute-money. When we reflect on what has been, and is, how is it possible not to feel a profound sense of the responsibleness of this Republic to all future ages ! What vast motives press upon us for lofty efforts ! What brilliant prospects invite our enthusiasm! What solemn warnings at once demand our vigilance, and moderate our confidence ! ^j^^^ story. SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS IN FAYOR OP THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 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 Divinity which shapes our ends. The in- justice of England has driven us to arms ; and, blinded THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 37 to her own interest, for our good, she has obstinately persisted, till independence is now within our grasp. We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why, then, should we defer the Declaration ? Is any man so weak as now to hope for a reconciliation with England, which shall leave either safety to the country and its liberties, or safety to its own life, and his own honor ? Are not you sir, who sit in that chair, — ^is not he, our venerable colleague, near you, — are you not both already the proscribed and predestined objects of punishment and vengeance ? Cut off from all hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the power of England remains, but outlaws ? If we postpone independence, do we mean to carry on, or to give up, the war ? Do we mean to submit to the measures of Parliament, Boston port-bill and all? Do we mean to submit, and consent that we ourselves shall be ground to powder, and our country and its rights trodden down in the dust ? I know we do not mean to submit. We never shall submit. Do we intend to violate that most solemn obligation ever entered into by men, that plighting, before God, of our sacred honor to Washington, when putting him forth to incur the dangers of war, as well as the politi- cal hazards of the times, we promised to adhere to him in every extremity, with our fortunes and our lives ? I know there is not a man here, who would not rather see a general conflagration sweep over the land, or an earthquake sink it, than one jot or tittle of that plighted faith fall to the ground. For myself, haviug, twelve months ago, in this place, moved you, that George Washington be appointed commander of the forces, raised, or to be raised, for the 38 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. defense of American liberty, may my right hand forget her cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate or waver in the support I give him. THE SAME CONTINUED. The war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. And, if the war must go on, why put off longer the Declaration of Independence ? That meas- ure will strengthen us : it will give us character abroad. If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we shall not fail. The cause will raise up armies ; the cause will create navies. The people, the people, if we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry themselves, gloriously through this struggle. I care not how fickle other people have been found. I know the people of these colonies, and I know that resistance to British aggression is deep and settled in their hearts, and can not be eradicated. Every colony, indeed, has expressed its willingness to follow, if we but take the lead. Sir, the Declaration will inspire the people with increased courage. Instead of a long and bloody war for restora- tion of privileges, for redress of grievances, for chartered immunities, 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. Read this Declaration at the head of the army ; eveiy 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. Send it to the public halls ; proclaim it there ; let them hear THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Bd it, who heard the first roar of tho 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 Lexing- ton and Concord, — and the very walls will cry out in its support. THE SAME CONTINUED. Sm, I know the uncertainty of human aflfairs ; but I see, I see clearly through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to the time when this Declaration shall be made good. We may die ; die, colonists ; die, slaves ; die, it may be, ignomini- ously and on the scafibld. Be it so. Be it so. K it be the pleasure of Heaven, that my country shall require the poor ofiering of my life, the victim shall be ready at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But, wTiile I do live, let me have a country, or at least the hope of a country, and that a free country. But, whatever may be our fate, be assured, he assured^ that this Declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood ; but it will stand, and it will richly compensate for both. Through the thick gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the future, as the sun in heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an im- mortal day. When we are in our graves, our children will honor it. They will celebrate it, with thanksgiving, with festivity, with bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return, they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all tliat I am, and all that 40 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. I hope, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it ; and I leave off, as I began, that, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the Declaration. It is my living sen- timent, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment, — independence now ; and independence FOKEVEK ! BOBADIL'S MILITAEY TACTICS. I WILL tell you, sir, by the way of private and under seal, I am a gentleman, and live here obscure and to myself; but were I known to his Majesty and the lords, observe me, I would undertake, upon this poor head and life, for the public benefit of the state, not only to spare the entire lives of his subjects, in general, but to save the one half, nay, three parts of yearly charge in hold- ing war, and against what enemy soever.* And how would I do it, think you ? Why thus, sir. I would select nineteen more to myself; gentlemen they should be, of a good spirit, strong and able constitution ; I would choose them by an instinct^ a character that I have: and I would teach these nineteen tlie special rules, as your Punto, your Reverso, your Stoccato, your Imbrocato, your Passado, your Moiitanto ;* till they could all play very near, or altogether, as well as myself. This done, say the enemy were forty thousand strong, we twenty would come into the field the tenth of March or thereabouts ; and we would challenge twenty of the enemy ; they could not in their honor refuse us ! Well, we would kill them ; challenge twenty more, kill tliem, ; twenty more, kill them / twenty more, kill them too : and thus would we kill, every man his twenty * Terms of the fencing-school. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 41 a day, that's twenty score ; twenty score, that's two hundred ; two hundred a day, five days a thousand : forty thousand, — forty times five, five times forty, — two hundred days kills them all up by computation. And this I wdll venture my poor gentleman-like carcase to perform (provided there be no treason practiced upon us,) by discreet manhood, that is, civilly, by the sword. [Bea. Jonson, SPEECH OBITUARY. Mr. Speaker: Sir, — Our fellow-citizen, Mr. Silas Higgins, who was lately a member of this branch of the legislature, is dead, and he died yesterday in the fore- noon. He liad the brown-creaters, (bronchitis was meant,) and was an uncommon individual. His char- acter was good up to the time of his death, and he never lost his voice. He was fifty-six year old, and was taken sick before he died, at his boarding-house, where board can be had at a dollar and seventy-five cents a week, washing and lights included. He was an ingenus creetur^ and, in the early part of his life, had a father and mother. He w^as an ofiicer in our State militia since the last war. and was brave and polite ; and his uncle, Timothy Higgins, belonged to the Revolutionary war, and was commissioned as lieutenant by General Washington, first President and commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States, who died at Mount Yernon, deepl}^ lamented by a large circle of friends, on tlie 14th of December, 1799, or thereabout, and was buried soon after his death, with military honors, and several guns were bu'st in firing salutes. 42 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Sir! Mr. Speaker: General "Washington presided over the great continental Sanhedrim and political meet- ing that formed our constitution ; and he was, indeed, a first-rate good man. He was first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen ; and, though he was in favor of the United States' Bank, he was a friend of education ; and from what he said in his farewell address, I have no doubt he would have voted for the tarifi* of 1846, if he had been alive, and had n't ha' died sometime beforehand. His death was considered, at the time, as rather premature, on account of its being brought on by a very hard cold. Now, Mr. Speaker, such being the character of Gen- eral Washington, I motion that we wear crape around the left arm of this legislature, and adjourn until to- morrow morning, as an emblem of our respects for the memory of S. Higgins, who is dead, and died of the brown-creaters yesterday in the forenoon ! [Clark's Knick-Knacks. THE SWOED OF WASHINGTON AND THE STAFF OF FEANKLIN. The Sword of Washington ! The Staff of Frank- lin! O, sir, what associations are linked in adamant with these names! Washington, whose sword was never drawn but in the cause of his country, and never sheathed when wielded in his country's cause ! Frank- lin, the philosopher of the thunderbolt, the printing- press, and the plowshare ! What names are these in the scanty catalogue of the benefactors of human kind ! Washington and Franklin! What other two men whose lives belong to the eighteenth century of Christen- THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 43 dom, have left a deeper impressiou of themselves upon the age in which they lived, and upon all after time? "Washington, the warrior and the legislator ! In war, contending, by the wager of battle, for the independence of his couutry, and for the freedom of the human race, — ever manifesting, amid its horrors, by precept and by example, his reverence for the laws of peace, and for the teuderest sympathies of humanity; — in peace, sooth- ing the ferocious spirit of discord, among his own countrymen, into harmony and union, and giving to that very sword, now presented to his country, a charm more potent than that attributed, in ancient times, to the lyre of Orpheus. Franklin ! the mechanic of his own fortune ; teach- ing, in earty youth, under the shackles of indigence, the way to wealth, and, in the shade of obscurity, the path to greatness ; in the maturity of manhood, dis- arming the thunder of its terrors, the lightning of its fatal blast ; and w'resting from the tyrant's hand the still more afflictive scepter of oppression: while descend- ing the vale of years, traversing the Atlantic Ocean, braving, in the dead of winter, the battle and the breeze, bearing in his hand the Charter of Indepen- dence, which he had contributed to form, and tendering, from the self-created nation to the mightiest monarchs of Europe, the olive-branch of peace, the mercurial wand of commerce, and the amulet of protection and safety to the man of peace, on the pathless ocean, from the inexorable cruelty and merciless rapacity of war. [Joha Quincy Adams. 44 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. THE AGE OF WASHINGTON. Great generals have arisen in all ages of the world, and, perhaps, most in those of despotism and darkness. In times of violence and convulsion, thej rise, by the force of the whirlwind, high enough to ride in it, and direct the storm. Like meteors, they glare on the black clouds with a splendor, which, while it dazzles and ter- rifies, makes nothing visible but the darkness. The fame of heroes, is, indeed, growing vulgar ; they multiply in every long war ; they stand in history, and thicken in their ranks, almost as undistinguished as their own soldiers. But such a chief magistrate as Washington appears like the polar-star in a clear sky, to direct the skillful statesman. His Presidency will form an epoch, and be distinguished as the age of Washington. Like the milky wa}^, it whitens along its allotted portion of the hemisphere. The latest generations of men will survey, through the telescope of history, the space where so many virtues blend their rays, and delight to separate them into groups and distinct virtues. As the best illus- tration of them, the living monument, to which the first of patriots would have chosen to consign his fame, it is my earnest prayer to Heaven, that our country may subsist, even to that late day, in the plentitude of its liberty and happiness, and mingle its mild glory with Washino-ton's. ^^''^'' ^'^''' ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. ]N'o, fellow-citizens, we dismiss not Adams and JeiTer- son to the chambers of forgetfulness and death. What THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 4:5 we admired, and prized, and venerated in them, can never die, nor, dying, be forgotten. I had ahnost said that they are now beginning to live, — to live that life of unimpaired influence, of unclouded fanle, of unmingled happiness, for wdiich their talents and services were destined. They were of the select few, the least portion of whose life dwells in their physical existence ; whose hearts have watched while their senses slept; whose souls have grown up into a higher being ; whose pleasure is to be useful ; whose wealth is an unblem- ished reputation ; who respire the breath of honorable fame ; who have deliberately and consciously put what is called life to hazard, that they may live in the hearts of those who come after. Such men do not, can not die. To be cold, and motionless, and breathless; to feel not and speak not: this is not the end of existence to the men who have breathed their spirits into the insti- tutions of their country, who have stamped their char- acters on the pillars of the age, who have poured their heart's blood into the channels of the public prosperity. Tell me, jq who tread the sods of yon sacred height, is Warren dead ? Can you not still see him, not pale and prostrate, the blood of his gallant heart pouring out of his ghastly wound, but moving resplendent over the field of honor, with the rose of Heaven upon his cheek, and the fire of liberty in his eye? ^ Tell me, ye who make your pious pilgrimage to the ^'shades of Yernon, is Washington indeed shut up in that cold and narrow house ? That which made these men, and men like these, can not die. The hand that traced the charter of Independence is, indeed, motion- less, the eloquent lips that sustained it are hushed; but 46 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. the lofty spirits that conceived, resolved, matured, main- tained it, and which alone, to such men, "make it life to live," these can not expire : " These shall resist the empire of decay, When time is o'er, and worlds have passed away : Cold in the dust the perished heart may lie, But that which warmed it once, can never die." [Edward Everett. WEBSTER'S REPLY TO HAYNE. This interrogatory of the honorable member was only introductory to another. He proceeded to ask me, wheth- er I had turned upon liim in this debate, from the con- sciousness that I should find an overmatch, if I ventured on a contest with his friend from Missouri. If the honor- able member, from modesty, had chosen thus to defer to his friend, and to pay him a compliment, without inten- tional disparagement to others, it would have been quite according to the friendly courtesies of debate, and not at all ungrateful to my own feelings. I am not one of those, who esteem any tribute of regard, whether light and occasional, or more serious and deliberate, which may be bestowed upon others, as so much unjustly with- holden from themselves. But the tone and manner of the gentleman's question, forbid me that I thus interpret it. I am not at liberty to consider it as nothing more than a civility to his friend ; it had an air of taunt and disparagement, a little of the loftiness of asserted supe- riority, which does not allow me to pass it over without notice. It was put as a question for me to answer, (and so put, as if it were difficult for me to answer,) whether I deemed the member from Missouri an over- match for myself, in debate here. It seems to me, that THE niGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 4:7 this is extraordiuary language, and an extraordinary tone, for the discussion of this body? Matches and overmatches ! Tliose terms are more applicable else- where than here, and fitter for other assemblies than this! The gentleman seems to forget where and what we are. This is a senate : a senate of equals ; of men of individual honor and personal character, and of abso- lute independence. We know no masters : we acknow- ledge no dictators. This is a hall for mutual consulta- tion and discussion ; not an arena for the exhibition of champions. I ofler myself as a match for no man : I throw the challenge of debate at no man's feet. But, then, since the honorable member has put the question, in a manner that calls for an answer, I will give him an answer ; and I tell him, that holding myself to be the humblest of the members here, I yet know nothing in the arm of his friend from Missouri, either alone, or when aided by the arm of his friend from South Caro- lina, that need deter even me from espousing whatever opinions I may choose to espouse, from debating what- ever I may choose to debate, or from speaking whatever I may see fit to say, on the floor of the senate. CHATHAM ON THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. I CAN NOT, my lords, I will not join in congratulation on misfortune and disgrace. This, my lords, is a peril- ous and tremendous moment: it is not a time for adu- lation : the smoothness of flattery cannot save us in this rugged and awful crisis. It is now necessary to instruct the throne, in the language of tkuth. We must, if pos- sible, dispel the delusion and darkness which envelop it ; and display, in its full danger and genuine colors, 48 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEK. the ruin which is brought to our doors. Can niinisters still presume to expect support in their infatuation? Can Parliament be so dead to its dignity and duty as to give their support to measures thus obtruded and forced upon them, — measures, my lords, which have reduced this late flourishing empire to scorn and contempt? But yesterday, "and England might have stood against the world, — now, none so poor to do her reverence." The people we at first despised as rebels^ but whom we now acknowledge as enemies, are abetted against you, supplied with every military store, their interests con- sulted, and their embassadors entertained by your invet- erate enemy ; and our ministers do not, and dare not, interpose with dignity or effect. The desperate state of our army abroad is in part known. ISTo man more highly esteems and honors the English troops than I do: I know their virtue and their valor: I know they can achieve any thing except impossibilities ; and I know that the conquest of English America is an impossibil- ity. You ean not^ my lords, you can not conquer America. What is your present situation there ? We do not hnoio tlie worsts but we know that in three cam- paigns we have done nothing, and suffered much. You may swell every expense, and strain every effort, accu- mulate every assistance, and extend your traffic to the shanihles of every German despot ; your attempts for- ever will be vain and impotent; doubly so indeed from this mercenary aid on which you rely ; for it irritates to an incurable resentment the minds of your adversaries, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder, devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. K I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 49 in my country, I never would lay down my arms, — NEVER ! NEVER ! NEVER ! THE QUEEN OF FRANCE. It is now sixteen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles ; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delighiful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she had just begun to move in, glittering like the morn- ing star, full of life, and splendor, and joy. O ! what a revolution ; and what a lieart must I have, to contem- plate without emotion that elevation and that fall ! Little did I dream that, when she added titles of ven- eration to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she could ever be obliged to carry the sharp anti- dote against disgrace concealed in that bosom ; little did I dream that I should live to see such disasters heaped upon Tier in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers. I thought ten thou- sand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a looh that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry has gone. That of sophisters, econ- omists, and calculators, has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished forever. Never, never more sliall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified obedience, that subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom. The uubought grace of life, the cheap defense of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enter- prise, is gone ! It is gone, that sensibility of principle, 6 50 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. that chastity of honor, which felt a stain like a wound, which inspired courage, while it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half its evil, by losing all its grossness. [Burke. ADHERBAL AGAINST JUGUETHA. Look down, illustrious Senators of Home ! from that height of power to which you are raised, on the unexam- pled distresses of a prince, who is, by the cruelty of a wicked intruder, become an outcast from all mankind. Let not the crafty insinuations of him who returns mur- der for adoption, prejudice your judgment. Do not listen to the wretch who has butchered the son and relations of a king, who gave him power to sit on the same throne with his own sons. O ! murdered, butchered brother ! O ! dearest to my heart, — now gone forever from my sight ! But why should I lament his death ? He is, indeed, deprived of the blessed light of heaven, of life, and kingdom, at once, by the very person who ought to have been the first to hazard his own life, in defense of any one of Micipsa?s family. But, as things are, my brother is not so much deprived of these comforts, as delivered from terror, from flight, from exile, and the endless train of miseries which render life to me a burden. He lies full low, gored with wounds, and festering in his own blood. But he lies in peace. He feels none of the miseries which rend my soul with agony and dis- traction, while I am set up a spectacle to all mankind, of the uncertainty of human affairs. So far from having it in my power to punish his murderer, I am not master of the means of securing my own life. So far from THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 51 being in a condition to defend my kingdom from the violence of the usnrper, I am obliged to apply for foreign protection for my own person. Fathers ! Senators of Rome ! the arbiters of nations ! to you I fly for refuge from the murderous fury of Jugur- tba. By your affection for your children ; by your love for your country ; by your own virtues ; by the majesty of the Roman commonwealth ; by all that is sacred, and all that is dear to you, — deliver a wretched prince from undeserved, unprovoked injury ; and save the kingdom of Kumidia, which is your own property, from being the prey of violence, usurpation, and cruelty. [Saiiust. THE PASSING OF THE EUBICON. A GENTLEMAN, Mr. President, speaking of Csesar's benevolent disposition, and of the reluctance with which he entered into the civil war, observes, " How long did he pause upon the brink of the Rubicon ?" How came he to the brink of that river! How darod he cross it! Shall private men respect the boundaries of private pro- perty, and shall a man pay no respect to the boundaries of his country's rights ? How dared he cross that river ! O ! but he paused upon the brink ! He should have perished upon the brink ere he had crossed it! Why did he pause? Why does a man's heart palpitate when he is on the point of committing an unlawful deed? Why does the very murderer, his victim sleeping before him, and his glaring eye taking the measure of the blow, strike wide of the mortal part? Because of conscience. 'T was that made Csesar pause upon the brink of the Rubicon. Compassion ! What compansion ? The com- passion of an assassin, that feels a momentary shudder 52 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. as his weapon begins to cut ! Caesar paused upon the brink of the Rubicon ! What was the Rubicon ? The boundary of Caesar's province. From what did it sepa- rate his province ? From his country. Was that coun- try a desert ? N^o ; it was cultivated and fertile, rich and populous ! Its sons were men of genius, spirit, and generosity ! Its daughters were lovely, susceptible, and chaste ! Friendship was its inhabitant ! Love was its inhabitant ! Domestic affection was its inhabitant ! Liberty was its inhabitant ! All bounded by the stream of the Rubicon ! What was Caesar, that stood upon the bank of that stream ? A traitor, bringing war and pestilence into the heart of that country. No wonder that he paused, — no wonder if, his imagination wrought upon by his conscience, he had beheld blood instead of water, and heard groans instead of murmurs ! No wonder, if some gorgon horror had turned him into stone upon the spot ! But, no ! — he cried, "The die is cast !" He plunged ! — he crossed ! — and Rome was free no more I [Kaowies. FEOM CICERO'S ORATION AGAINST VERRES. I ASK now, Verres, what have you to advance against this charge? Will you pretend to deny it? Will you pretend that any thing false, that even any thing ex- aggerated is alleged against you? Had any prince, or any state, committed the same outrage against the privileges of Roman citizens, should we not think we had sufficient reason for declaring immediate war against them ? What punishment, then, ought to be inflicted on a tyrannical and wicked praetor, who dared, at no greater distance than Sicily, within sight of the Italian coast, to put to the infamous death of crucifixion THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 53 that unfortunate and innocent citizen, Publius Gavins Cosanus, only for his having asserted his privilege of citizenship, and declared his intention of appealing to the justice of his country against a cruel oppressor, who had unjustly confined him in prison at Syracuse, whence he had just made his escape? The unhappy man, arrested as he was going to embark for his native country, is brought before the wicked prsetor. With eyes darting fury, and a countenance distorted with cruelty, he orders the helpless victim of his rage to be stripped, and rods to be brought ; accusing him, but without the least shadow of evidence, or even of sus- picion, of having come to Sicily as a spy. It was in vain that the unhappy man cried out, ''I am a Roman citizen, I have served under Lucius Pretius, who is now at Panormus, and will attest my innocence." The bloodthirsty prsetor, deaf to all he could urge in his own defense, ordered the infamous punishment to be inflicted. Thus, fathers, was an innocent Roman citi- zen publicly mangled with scourging ; whilst the only words he uttered amidst his cruel sufferings were, " I am a Roman citizen !" With these he hoped to defend himself from violence and infamy. But of so little service was this privilege to him, that while he was asserting his citizenship, the order was given for his execution, — for his execution upon the cross ! O ! liberty ! O ! sound once delightful to every Roman ear ! O ! sacred privilege of Roman citizenship ! on^e sacred, now trampled upon! But what then! — is it come to this ? Shall an inferior magistrate, a governor, who holds his power of the Roman people, in a Roman province, within sight of Italy, bind, scourge, torture with fire and red-hot plates of iron, and at last put to 54: THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. th6 infamous death of the cross, a Roman citizen? Shall neither the cries of innocence expiring in agony, nor the tears of pitying spectators, nor the majesty of the Koman commonwealth, nor the fear of the justice of his countr}^ restrain the licentions and wanton cruelty of a monster, who, in confidence of his riches, strikes at the root of liberty and sets mankind at defiance ? MEETING OF DEATH AND SATAN. "Whence, and what art thou, execrable shape! That darest, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated front athwart my way To yonder gates ? Through them I mean to pass, That be assured, without leave asked of thee: Retire or taste th}' folly ; and learn by proof, Hell-born ! not to contend with spirits of heaven 1" To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied — "Art thou that 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 And they, outcast from God, are here condemned To waste eternal days in woe and pain ? And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of heaven, Hell-doomed ! and breath'st defiance here and scorn, Where I reign king, and, to inflame 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 sti'oke of this dart Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before." Cililton. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 55 THE QUAKREL OF ACHILLES AND ATPJDES. Insatiate king ! (Achilles thus replies), Fond of the power, but fonder of the prize ! Would'st thou the Greeks their lawful prey should yield, The due reward of many a well fought field ? The spoils of cities razed, and warriors slain, We share with justice, as with toil we gain : But, to resume, whate'er thy avarice craves, (That trick of tyrants) may be borne by slaves ; Yet if our chief for plunder only fight. The spoils of Illion shall thy loss requite. Whene'er by Jove's decree our conquering powers Shall humble in the dust her lofty towers. Then thus the king : Shall I my prize resign With tame content and thou possessed of thine ? Great as thou art and like a god in fight, Think not to rob me of a soldier's right. At thy demand shall I restore the maid? First let the just equivalent be paid ; Such as a king might ask ; and let it be A treasure worthy her, and worthy me. Or, grant me this, or with a monarch's claim This hand shall seize some other captive dame ; The mighty Ajax shall his prize resign, Ulysses' spoils, e'en thy own be mine. The man who suffers loudly may complain. And rage he may, but he shall rage in vain. At this Pelides, frowning stern, replied : O ! tyrant, arm'd with insolence and pride ! Inglorious slave to interest ever joined With fraud, unworthy of a royal mind ! What generous Greek, obedient to thy word. 56 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Shall form an ambush, or shall lift the sword ? What cause have I to war at thy decree? The distant Trojans never injured me ; To Phthia's realms no hostile troops they led ; Safe in her vales my warlike coursers fed; Far hence removed, the hoarse resounding main And walls of rocks secure my native reign ; Whose fruitful and luxuriant harvest grace, Rich in her fruits and in her martial race. [Pope. THE SAME, CONTINUED. Fly, mighty warrior ! fly, Thy aid we need not and thy threats defy — Want not there chiefs in such a cause to fight, And Jove himself shall 2:uard a monarch's riffht. Of all the kings (the gods' distinguished care) To power superior none such hatred bear ; Strife and debate thy restless soul employ. And wars and horrors are thy savage joy. If thou hast strength, 'twas heaven that strength be stow'd ; For know, vain man ! thy valor is from God. Haste, launch thy vessels, fly with speed away, Kule thy own realms with arbitrary sway : I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate Thy short-lived friendship, and thy groundless hate. Go, threat thy earth-born Myrmidons ; but here 'T is mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear. Know, if the god the beauteous dame demand, My barque shall waft her to her native land : But then prepare imperious prince ! prepare, Fierce as thou art, to yield thy captive fair ; THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 57 E'en in thy tent, I '11 seize the blooming prize, Thy loved Brise'is with the radiant eyes. Hence shalt thou prove my might, and curse the hour Tlion stood'st a rival of imperial power ; And hence to all our host it shall be known. The kings are subject to the gods alone. Achilles heard with grief and rage oppressed, His heart swelled high, and labored in his breast. l^or yet the rage his boiling breast forsook, Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke. THE SAME, CONTINUED. O MONSTER ! mix'd of insolence and fear, Thou dog in forehead, but in heart a deer ! When wert thou known in ambushed fights to dare, Or nobly face the horrid front of war ? 'Tis ours the chance of fighting fields to try, Thine to look on, and bid the valiant die. So much 't is safer through the camp to go And rob a subject than despoil a foe. Scourge of thy people, violent and base ! Sent in Jove's anger on a slavish race. Who, lost to. sense of generous freedom past. Are tamed to wrongs, or this had been thy last. Now by this sacred sceptre let me swear. Which never more shall leaves or blossoms bear. Which severed from the trunk, (as I from thee). On the bare mountains left its parent tree ; This sceptre, formed by tempered steel to prove An ensign of the delegates of Jove ; By this I swear when bleeding Greece again 58 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Shall call Achilles, she shall call in vain ; When flushed with slaughter, Hector comes to spread The purple shore with mountains of the dead. Then shalt thou mourn the affront thy madness gave, Forced to deplore, but impotent to save : Then rage in bitterness of soul to know This act has made the bravest Greek thy foe. He spoke : and furious hurled against the ground His sceptre starred with golden stads around. Then sternly silent sat. With like disdain The raging king returned his frowns again. [pope. EMPLOYMEl^T OF INDIANS IN CIVILIZED WAEFARB. I AM astonished ! — shocked ! to hear such principles confessed, — to hear them avowed in this house, or in this country, — principles equally unconstitutional, inhu man, and unchristian ! My lords, I did not intend to have encroached again upon your attention ; but I cannot repress my indigna- tion. I feel myself impelled by every duty. My lords, we are called upon as members of this house, as men, as Christian men, to protest against such notions stand- ing near the throne, polluting the ear of majesty. " That God and nature put into our hands !" — I know not what ideas that lord may entertain of God and nature ; but I know that such abominable principles are equally abhor- rent to religion and humanity. What ! to attribute the sacred sanction of God and nature to the massacre of the Indian seal ping-knife, — to the cannibal savage, tor- turing, murdering, roasting, and eating, literally, my lords, eating the mangled victims of his barbarous THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 69 battles ! Such horrible notions shock eveiy precept of religion, divine or natural, every generous feeling of humanity, and every sentiment of honor. These abominable principles, and this more abomin- able avowal of them, demand the most decisive indig- nation. I call upon that right reverend bench, those holy ministers of the gospel, and pious pastors of our church ; I conjure them to join in the holy work, and vindicate the religion of their God. I appeal to the wisdom and the law of this learned bench, to defend and support the justice of their country. I call upon the bishops, to interpose the unsullied sanctity of their lawn ; upon the learned judges, to interpose the purity of their ermine, to save us from this pollution. I call upon the honor of your lordships, to reverence the dig- nity of your ancestors, and maintain jovir own. I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to vindicate the national character. I invoke the genius of the Con- stitution. From the tapestry that adorns these walls, the immortal ancestors of this noble lord frown with indignation at the disgrace of his country. In vain he led your victorious fleets against the boasted armada of Spain ; in vain he defended and established the honor, the liberties, ihe religion, the Protestant religion, of this country, against the arbitrary cruelties of Popery, and the Inquisition, if these more than popish cruelties and inquisitorial practices are let loose among us. — To turn forth into our settlements, among our ancient con- nections, friends, and relations, the merciless cannibal, thirsting for the blood of man, woman, and child ! to send forth the infidel savage, — against whom? against your Protestant brethren ; to lay waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their race and 60 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. name, with these horrible hell-hounds of savage war ! — hell-hounds, I say, of savage war. [Chatham. MOLOCH AND SATAN BEFORE THE POWERS OF HELL. One there was there, whose loud defying tongue Kor hope nor fear had silenced, but the swell Of overboiling malice. Utterance long His passion mocked, and long he strove to tell His laboring ire ; still syllable none fell From his pale quivering lip, but died away For very fury ; from each hollow cell Half sprang his eyes, that cast a flamy ray. " This comes," at length burst from the furious chief, "This comes of dastard counsels ! Here behold The fruits of wily cunning ! the relief Which coward policy would fain unfold To soothe the powers that warred with heaven of old. O wise ! O potent ! O sagacious snare ! And lo ! our prince, — the mighty and the bold, There stands he, spell-struck, gaping at the air. While heaven subverts his reign and plants her stand ard there." Here, as recovered, Satan fixed his eye Full on the speaker ; dark as it was stern ; He wrapped his black vest round him gloomily And stood like one whom weightiest thoughts concern. Him Moloch marked and strove again to turn His soul to rage. " Behold, behold," he cried, "The lord of hell, who bade these legions spurn Almighty rule, — behold he lays aside The spear of just revenge, and shrinks, by man defied." THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 61 Thus ended Moloch, and his burning tongue Hung quivering, as if mad to quench its heat In slaughter. So, his native wilds among, The iamished tiger pants, when near his seat, Pressed on the sands, he marks the traveler's feet. Instant low murmurs rose, and many a sword Had from its scabbard sprung ; but toward the seat Of the arch-fiend, all turned with one accord, As loud he thus harangued the sanguinary horde. THE SAME, CONTINUED. "Ye powders of hell, I am no coward. I proved this of old. AYho led your forces against the armies of Je- hovah ? Who coped with Ithuriel, and the thunders of the Almighty? Who, when stunned and confused ye lay on the burning lake, who first awoke and collected your scattered powers ? Lastly, who led you across the unfathomable abyss to this delightful world, and estab- lished that reign here w^hich now totters to its base? How, therefore, dares yon treacherous fiend to cast a stain on Satan's bravery? He, who preys only on the defenseless, — who sucks the blood of infants, and de- tights only in acts of ignoble cruelty and unequal con- tention ! Away with the boaster who never joins in action ; but, like a cormorant, hovers over the field, to feed upon the wounded and overwhelm the djang. True bravery is as remote from rashness as from hesi- tation. Let us counsel coolly, but let us execute our counseled purposes determinately. In power, we have learned by that experiment which lost us heaven, that we are inferior to the thunder-bearer: in subtilty, — 62 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. in subtilty alone, we are his equals. Open war is im- possible. Thus shall we pierce our conqueror through the race Which, as himself, he loves ; thus, if we fall, We fall not w^ith the anguish, the disgrace Of falling unrevenged. The stirring call Of vengeance rings within me ! Warriors all, The word is vengeance, and the spur despair. Away w^ith coward wiles ! Death's coal-black pall Be now our standard ! Be our torch, the glare Of cities fired ! our fifes, the shrieks that fill the air !" ["White. MAEULLUS TO THE MOB. Wherefore rejoice that Caesar comes in triumph? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels ? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! O you hard hearts ! you cruel men of Rome ! Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft Have you climbed up to walls and battlements, To towers, and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day with patient expectation. To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome : And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made a universal shout. That Tiber trembled underneath his bands, To hear the replication of your sounds. Made in his concave shores ? And do you now put on your best attire ? i THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 63 And do you now call out a holiday ? And do you now strew flowers in his way, That comes in triumph over Pornpei/'s hloodf Begone, — Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague, That needs must light on this ingratitude, [shakspeare. SPEECH OF RAAB KIUPRILI. Hear me, Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria, Hear, and avenge me ! Twice ten years have I Stood in your presence, honored by the king, Beloved and trusted. Is there one among you, Accuses Raab Kiuprili of a bribe ? Or one false wdiisper in his sovereign's ear ? "Who here dares charge me with an orphan's rights Outfaced, or widow's plea left undefended? And shall I now be branded *by a traitor, A bought-bribed wretch, wdio, being called Qny son, Doth libel a chaste matron's name, and plant Hensbane and' aconite on a mother's grave? Th' underling accomplice of a robber. That from a widow and a widow's offspring Would steal their heritage ? To G od a rebel, And to the common father of his country, A recreant in grate ! — What means this clamor? Are these madmen's voices ? Or is some knot of riotous slanderers leagued To infamize the name of the king's brother With a black falsehood ? Unmanly cruelty, 64: THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Ingratitude, and most unnatural treason ? What mean these murmurs ? Dare then any here Proclaim Prince Emerick a spotted traitor ? One that has taken from you your sworn faith, And given you in return a Judas' bribe, Infamy now, oppression in reversion. And Heaven's inevitable curse liereafter ? ^ Yet bear with me awhile. Have I for this " Bled for your safety, conquered for your honor? Was it for this, lllyrians ! that I forded Your thaw-swollen torrents, when the shouldering ice Fought with the foe, and stained its jagged points With gore from wounds I felt not ? Did the blast Beat on this body, frost and famine-numbed, Till my hard flesh distinguish'd not itself From the insensate mail, its fellow-warrior ? And have I brought home with me Yictory, And with her, hand in hand, firm-footed Peace, Her countenance twice lighted up with glory. As if I had charmed a goddess down from heaven ? But these will flee abhorrent from the throne Of usurpation ! Have you then thrown off shame, And shall not a dear friend, a loyal subject. Throw off all fear? I tell ye, the fair trophies Yaliantly wrested from a valiant foe, ^ Love's natural offerings to a rightful king. Will hang as ill on this usurping traitor. This brother-blight, this Emerick, as robes Of gold plucked from the images of gods Upon a sacrilegious robber's back. tcoiendge. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 65 PRINCE LEWIS' ANSWER TO THE POPE'S LEGATK YouK grace shall pardon me, I will not back ; I am too high-born to be propertied, To be a secondary at control, Or useful serving-man, and instrument. To any sovereign state throughout the world. Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars, Between this chastised kingdom and myself. And brought in matter that should feed this fire ; And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out With that same weak wind which enkindled it. You taught me how to know the face of right, Acquainted me with interest to this land, Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart ; And come you now to tell me John hath made His peace with Rome ? What is that peace to me ? I, by the honor of my marriage-bed, After young Arthur, claim this land for mine ; And, now it is half conquered, must I back. Because that John hath made his peace with Home? Am I Rome's slave ? What penny hath Rome borne, What men provided, what munition sent. To underprop this action ? is't not I -That undergo this charge? Who else but I, And such as to my claim are liable. Sweat in this business, and maintain this war? Have I not hoard these islanders shout out, Vive le roil as I have banked their towns? Have I not here the best cards for the game. To win this easy match played for a crown ? And shall I now give o'er the yielded set? Ko, on my soul, it never shall be said. [shakspearo. 6 6Q THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEE, THE MURDEEER'S SECRET. The deed was executed with a degree of self-posses- sion and steadiness, equal to the wickedness with which it was planned. The circumstances, now clearly in evi- dence, spread out the whole scene before us. Deep sleep had fallen on the destined victim, and on all beneath his roof. A healthful old man, to whom sleep was sweet, the first sound slumbers of the night held him in their soft but sti'ong embrace. The assassin enters, through the window already prepared, into an unoccu- . pied apartment. With noiseless foot he paces the lonely hall, half lighted by the moon-; he winds up the ascent of the stairs, and reaches the door of the chamber. Of this he moves the lock, by soft and continued pressure, till it turns on its hinges without noise ; and he enters, and beholds his victim before him. The room was uncommonly open to the admission of light. The face of the innocent sleeper was turned from the murderer, and the beams of the moon, resting on the gray locks of his aged temple, showed him where to strike. The fatal blow is given ! and the victim passes, without a struggle or a motion, from the repose of sleep to the repose of death ! It is the assassin's purpose to make sure work ; and he yet plies the dagger, though it was obvious that life had been destroyed by the blow of the bludgeon. He even raises the aged arm, that he may not fail in his aim at the heart, and replaces it again over the wounds of the poniard ! To finish the picture, he explores the wrist for the pulse ! He feels for it, and ascertains that it beats no longer ! It is ac- complished. The deed is done. He retreats, retraces his steps to the window, passes out through it as he THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 67 came iu, and escapes. He lias done the murder, — uo eye has seen him, no ear has heard hnn. The secret is his own, and it is safe ! Ah ! gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake. Such a secret can be safe nowhere. The whole creation of God has neither nook nor corner, where the guilty can bestow it, and say it is safe. Not to speak of that Eye which glances through all disguises, and beholds every thing, as in the splendor of noon, — such secrets of guilt are never safe from detection, even by man. [Webster. THE TOMAHAWK SUBMISSIVE TO ELOQUENCE. Twenty tomahawks were raised ; twenty arrows drawn to their head. Yet stood Harold, stern and col- lected, — at bay, — parleying only with his sword. He waved his arm. Smitten with a sense of their coward- ice, perhaps, or by his great dignity, more awful for his very youth, their weapons dropped, and their counte- nances were uplifted upon him, less in hatred than in wonder. " Warriors 1" he said, "Brethren!" — (their toma- hawks were brandished simultaneously, at the sound of his terrible voice, as if preparing for the onset). His tones grew deeper, and less threatening. " Broth- ers ! let us talk together of Logan ! Ye who have known him, ye aged men ! bear ye testimony to tlie deeds of his strength. Who was like him? Who could resist him ? Who may abide the hurricane in its volley ? Who may withstand the winds that uproot the great trees of the mountain ? Let him be the foe of Logan. Thrice in one day hath he given battle. Thrice in one day hath he come back victorious. Who 68 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. may bear up against the strong man, the man of war? Let them that are young, hear me. Let them follow the course of Logan. He goes in clouds and wliirl- wind, — in the fire and in the smoke. Let them follow him. Warriors! Logan was the father of Harold !" They fell back in astonishment, but they believed him ; for Harold's word was unquestioned, undoubted evidence, to them that knew him. j-j^^jj^ PUBLIC DISHONESTY. When a whole people, united by a common disregard of justice, conspire to defraud public creditors ; and States vie with States in an infamous repudiation of just debts, by open or sinister methods ; and nations exert their sovereignty to protect and dignify the knavery of the commonwealth ; then the confusion of domestic affairs has bred a fiend before whose flight honor fades away, and under whose feet the sanctity of truth and the religion of solemn compacts are stamped down and ground into the dirt. Keed we ask the cause of growing dishonesty among the young, the increasing untrustworthiness of all agents, when States are seen clothed with the panoply of dishonesty, and nations put on fraud for their garments. Absconding agents, swindling schemes, and defalca- tions, occurring in such melancholy abundance, have, at length, ceased to be wonders, and rank with the common accidents of fire and flood. The budget of each week is incomplete without its mob and run-away cashier, — its duel and defaulter ; and as waves which roll to the shore are lost in those which follow on, so THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 6# the villainies of each week obliterate the record of the last. Men of notorious immorality, whose dishonesty is flagrant, whose private habits would disgrace the ditch, are powerful and popular. I have seen a man stained with every sin, except those which required courage; into whose head I do not think a pure thought has entered for forty years ; in whose heart an honorable feeling would droop for very loneliness ; in evil he was ripe and rotten ; hoary and depraved in deed, in word, in his present life and in all his past; evil when by himself, and viler among men ; corrupting to the young ; to domestic fidelity, a recreant ; to common honor, a traitor ; to honesty, an outlaw ; to religion, a hypocrite ; base in all that is worthy of man, and accomplished in whatever is disgraceful ; and yet this wretch could go where he would ; enter good men's dwellings, and purloin their votes. Men would curse him, yet obey him ; hate him, and assist him ; w^arn their sons against him, and lead them to the polls for him. A public sentiment which produces ignominious knaves, can not breed honest men. j-Hcnry ward Beecher. THE PERFECT ORATOR. Imagine to yourselves a Demothcnes addressing the most illustrious assembly in the world, upon a point whereon the fate of the most illustrious of nations de- pended. — How awful such a meeting! How vast the subject ! Is man possessed of talents adequate to the great occasion? Adequate? — yes, superior. By the power of his eloquence, the augustness of the assembly is lust in the diguit)^ of the orator ; and the importance 70 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. of the subject for a while superseded by the admiration of his talents. With what strength of argnment, with what powers of the fancy, with what eniotions of the heart, does he assanlt and subjugate the whole man, and, at once, captivate his reason, liis imagination, and his passions ! To effect this, must be the utmost effort of the most improved state of human nature. — Kot a faculty that he possesses is here unemployed ; not a fiaculty that he possesses but is here exerted to its highest pitch. All his internal powers are at work; all his external testify their energies. Within, the memory, the fancy, the judgment, the passions, are all busy; without, every muscle, every nerve, is exerted; not a feature, not a limb, but speaks. The organs of the body, attuned to the exertions of the mind, through the kindred organs of the hearers, instantaneously, as it were with an electrical spirit, vibrate those energies from soul to soul. — ^Notwithstanding the diversity of minds in such a multitude, by the lightning of elo- quence they are melted into one mass, — the whole assembly, actuated in one and the same way, become, as it were, but one man, and have but one voice. The universal cry is, — "Let us march against Philip, — let us fight for our liberties, — ^let us conquer, — or die." [Anonymous. EEPLY TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON". My lokds, I am amazed ; yes, my lords, I am amazed at his grace's speech. The noble duke can not look before him, behind him, or on either side of him, with- out seeing some noble peer, who owes his seat in this house to his successful exertion in the profession to which I belong. Does he not feel that it is as honorable THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 71 to owe it to these, as to being the accident of an acci- dent f 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. ISo one venerates the peerage more than I do ; but, my lords, I must say, that the peerage solicited me, not I the peerage. ISTay, more,— I can say, and will say, that as a peer of parliament, as speaker of this right honorable house, as keeper of the great seal, as guardian of his majesty's conscience, as lord high chancelor of England, nay, even in that character alone, in which the noble duke would think it an affront to be considered, but which character none can deny me^ — as a man, I am, at this time, as much respected as the proudest peer I now look down upon. [Thuriow. NECESSITY OF A PURE NATIONAL MORALITY. The crisis has come. By the people of this gener- ation, by ourselves, probably, the amazing question is to be decided, — whether the inheritance of our fathers shall be preserved or thrown away ; whether our sab- baths shall be a delight or a loathing; wdiether the taverns, on that holy day, shall be crowded with drunk- ards, or the sanctuary of God with humble worshipers ; whether riot and profaneness shall fill our streets, and poverty our dwellings, and convicts our jails, and violence om* land ; or whether industry, and temper- ance, and righteousness, shall be the stability of our times ; whether mild laws shall receive the cheerful submission of freemen, or the iron rod of a tyrant com- pel the trembling homage of slaves. Be not deceived. The rocks and hills of New England will remain till 72 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. the last conflagration. But let the sabbath be profaned with impunity, the worship of God be abandoned, the government and religious instruction of children ne- glected, and the streams of intemperance be permitted to flow, and her glory will depart. The wall of fire will no longer surround her, and the munition of rocks will no longer be her defense. The hand that overturns our doors and temples, is the hand of death unbarring the gate of pandemonium, and letting loose upon our land the crimes and miseries of hell. If the Most High should stand aloof and cast not a single ingredient into our cup of trembling, it would seem to be full of super- lative woe. But he will not stand alootV As we shall have begun an open controversy with him, he will con- tend openly with us. And, never, since the earth stood, has it been so fearful a thing for nations to &11 into the hands of the living God. CBeecher. THE FEDERAL UNION. While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, grati- fying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that, I seek not to penetrate the vail. God grant, that, in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise I God grant, that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind ! When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on States dis- severed, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Y3 honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured, bearing for its motto, no such miserable interrogatory as, What is all this worth f — nor those other words of delusion and folly, Liberty first^ and Union after- ward; but everywhere spread all over in characters of living 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 INSEPARABLE. [Webster. SPECIMEN OF THE ELOQUENCE OF JAMES OTIS. England "may as well dam up the waters of the Nile with bulrushes, as to fetter the step of freedom, more proud and firm in this youthful land, than where she treads the sequestered glens of Scotland, or couches herself among the magnificent mountains of Switzer- land. Arbitrary principles, like those against which we now contend, have cost one king of England his life, — another his crown, — and they may yet cost a third his most flourishing colonies. We are two millions, — one-fifth fighting men. We are bold and vigorous, and we call no man master. To the nation, from whom we are proud to derive our origin, we were ever, and we ever will be, ready to yield unforced assistance; but it must not, and it never can be extorted. Some have sneeringly asked, " Are the Americans too poor to pay a few pounds on stamped paper ?" Ko ! America, thanks to God and herself, is rich. But the 7 74 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEK. right to take ten pounds, implies the right to take a thousand ; and what must be the wealth, that avarice, aided bj power, can not exhaust. True, the spectre is now small ; but the shadow he casts before him is huge enough to darken all this fair land. Others, in senti- mental style, talk of the immense debt of gratitude which we owe to England. And what is the amount of this debt ? Why, truly, it is the same that the young lion owes to the dam, which has brought it forth on the solitude of the mountain, or left it amid the winds and storms of the desert. We plunged into the wave, with the great charter of freedom in our teeth, because the faggot and torch were behind us. We have waked this new world from its savage lethargy ; forests have been prostrated in our path ; towns and cities have grown up suddenly as the flowers of the tropics ; and the fires in our autumnal woods are scarcely more rapid than the increase of our wealth and population. And do we owe all this to the kind succor of the mother country ? No ! we owe it to the tyranny that drove us from her, — ^to the pelting storms which invigorated our helpless infancy. MASSACHUSETTS. Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts, — she needs none. There she is, — behold her and judge for yourselves. There is her history, — the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill ; and there they will remain forever. The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle for independence, now lie mingled with the soil of every THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 75 State, from ^ew England to Georgia ; and there they will lie forever. And, sir, where American liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it, — if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it ; if folly and madness, if uneasiness under salutary and necessary restraint, shall succeed to separate it from that Union by which alone its exis- tence is rnade sure, it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who gather around it; audit will fall at last, if fall it must, amid the proudest monu- ments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its orio-hl [Webster. THE RIGHT OF ENGLAND TO TAX AMERICA. " But, Mr. Speaker, we have a right to tax America." Oh, inestimable right! Oh, wonderful, transcendent right ! the assertion of which has cost this country thirteen provinces, six islands, one hundred thousand lives, and seventy millions of money. Oh, invaluable right! for the sake of which we have sacrificed our rank among nations, our importance abroad, and our happi- ness at home! Oh, right! more dear to us than our existence, which has already cost us so much, and which seems likely to cost us our all. Infatuated man ! miser- able and undone country ! not to know that the claim of right, witliout the power of enforcing it, is nugatory and idle. We have a right to tax America, the noble lord tells us, therefore we ought to tax America. This 76 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEK. is the profound logic which comprises the whole chain of his reasoning. I^ot inferior to this was the wisdom of him who resolved to shear the wolf. What, shear a wolf! Have you considered the resistance, the difficulty, the danger of the attempt? ]N^o, says the madman, I have con- sidered nothing but the right. Man has a right of dominion over the beasts of the forest ; and therefore I will shear the wolf. How wonderful that a nation could be thus deluded. But the noble lord deals in cheats and delusions. They are the daily traffic of his invention ; and he will continue to play off his cheats on this house, so long as he thinks them necessary to his purpose, and so long as he has money enough at command to bribe gentlemen to pretend that they believe him. But a black and bitter day of reckoning will surely come ; and whenever that day comes, I trust I shall be able, by a parliamentary impeachment, to bring upon the heads of the authors of our calamities the punishment they deserve. tBnrko. CHARACTER OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. He is fallen ! We may now pause before that splen- did prodigy, which towered amongst us like some ancient ruin, whose frown terrified the glance its mag- nificence attracted. Grand, gloomy, and peculiar, he sat upon the throne a sceptered hermit, wrapped in the solitude of his own originality. A mind, bold, inde- pendent, and decisive, — a will, despotic in its dictates, — an energy that distanced expedition, and a conscience pliable to every touch of interest, marked the outline of this extraordinary character, — ^the most extraordinary, perhaps, that in the annals of this world, ever rose, or THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 77 reigned, or fell. Flung into life, in the midst of a revo- lution that quickened every energy of a people who acknowledge no superior, he commenced his course, a stranger by birth, and a scholar by charity ! With no friend but his sword, and no fortune but his talents, he rushed in the list where rank, and wealth, and genius had arrayed themselves, and competition fled from him as from the glance of destiny. He knew no motive but interest, — he acknowledged no criterion but suc- cess, — ^he worshiped no God but ambition, and with an eastern devotion he knelt at the shrine of his idolatry. Subsidiary to this, there was no creed that he did not profess, there was no opinion that he did not promul- gate; in the hope of a dynasty, he upheld the crescent; for the sake of a divorce, he bowed before the cross : the orphan of St. Louis, he became the adopted child of the republic : and with a parricidal ingratitude, on the ruins both of the throne and the tribune, he reared the throne of his despotism. A professed Catholic, he imprisoned the pope ; a pretended patriot, he impover- ished the country ; and in the name of Brutus, he grasped without remorse, and wore without shame, the diadem of the Caesars ! [Phiiupa. A POLITICAL PAUSE. "But we must pause!" says the honorable gentle- man. What ! must the bowels of Great Britain be torn out, — her best blood be spilled, — her treasures wasted, — that you may make an experiment? Put yourselves, O ! that you would put yourselves on the field of battle, and learn to judge of the sort of horrors that you excite. In former wars a man might, at least, have some feel- 78 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. ing, some interest, that served to balance in his mind the impressions which a scene of carnage and of death must inflict. Bnt if a man were present now at the field of slaugh- ter, and were to inquire for what they were fighting, — "Fighting!" would be the answer; "they are not fighting ; they are pausing." " "Why is that man ex- piring ? Why is that other writhing with agony ? What means this implacable fury ?" The answer must be, — " You are quite wrong, sir, yon deceive yourself, — they are not fighting, — do not disturb them, — they are merely pausing ! This man is not expiring with agony, — that man is not dead, — he is only pausing ! Lord help you, sir! they are not angry with one another: they have now no cause of quarrel ; but their country thinks that there should be a pause. All that you see, sir, is nothing like fighting, — there is no harm, nor cruelty, nor blood- shed in it, whatever ; it is nothing more than a political pause! It is merely to try an experiment, — to see whether Bonaparte will not behave himself better than heretofore ; and in the meantime we have agreed to a pause, in pure friendship !" And is this the way, sir, that you are to show your- selves the advocates of order ? You take up a system calculated to uncivilizo the world, — to destroy order, — to trample on religion, — to stifle in the heart, not merely the generosity of noble sentiment, but the afiections of social nature; and in the prosecution of this system, you spread terror and devastation all around you. ^fox. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEE. * 79 PREVALENCE OF WAR. War is the law of violence. Peace the law of love. That law of violence prevailed without mitigation from the murder of Abel to the advent of the Prince of Peace. We might have imagined, if history had not attested the reverse, that an experiment of four thousand years would have sufficed to prove, that the rational and valu- able ends of society can never be attained, by construct- ing its institutions in conformity with the standard of war. But the sword and the torch had been eloquent in vain. A thousand battle-fields, white with the bones of brothers, were counted as idle advocates in the cause of justice and humanity. Ten thousand cities, aban- doned to the cruelty and licentiousness of the soldiery, and burnt, or dismantled, or razed to the ground, pleaded in vain against the law of violence. The river, the lake, the sea, crimsoned with the blood of fellow- citizens, and. neighbors, and strangers, had lifted up their voices in vain to denounce the folly and wickedness of war. The shrieks and agonies, the rage and hatred, the wounds and curses of the battle-field, and the storm and the sack, had scattered in vain their terrible warnings throughout all lands. In vain had the insolent Lysan- der destroyed the walls and burnt the fleets of Athens, to the music of her own female flute-players. In vain had Scipio, amid the ruins of Carthage, in the spirit of a gloomy seer, applied to Rome herself the prophecy of Agamemnon : " The day shall come, the great avenging day, Which Troy's proud glories in the dust shall lay ; Wlien Priam's power, and Priam's self shall fall. And one prodigious ruin swallow all." [Grimke. 80* THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. PHILLIPS ON THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. y You traverse the ocean to emancipate the African ; ^ you cross the line to convert the Hindoo; you hurl your thunder against the savage Algerine ; but your own brethren at home, who speak the same tongue, acknowledge the same king, and kneel to the same God, can not gai one visit from your itinerant Jiumanity I Oh, such a system is almost too abominable for a name ; it is a monster of impiety, impolicy, ingratitude, and injustice! The pagan nations of antiquity scarcely acted on such barbarous principles. Look to ancient Rome, with her sword in one hand, and her constitution in the other, healing the injuries of conquest with the embrace of brotherhood, and wisely converting the captive into the citizen. Look to her great enemy, the glorious Carthagenian, at the foot of the Alps, ranging his prisoners round him, and by the politic option of captivity or arms, recruiting his legions with the very men w^hom he had literally conquered into gratitude ? They laid their foundations deep in the human heart, and their success was proportionate to their policy. You complain of the violence of the L'ish Catholic: can you wonder he is violent? It is the consequence of your own infliction, — " The flesh will quiver where the pincers teai*. The blood will follow where the knife is driven." Your friendship has been to him worse than hostility ; he feels its embrace but by the pressure of his fetters ! I am only amazed he is not more violent. He fills your exchequer, he fights your battles, he feeds your clergy from whom he derives no benefit, he shares your burdens, he shares your perils, he shares everything except your THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 81 privileges, — can you wonder lie is violent f N'o matter what his merit, no matter what his claims, no matter what his services : he sees himself a nominal subject, and a real slave ; and his children, the heirs, perhaps of his toils, perhaps of his talents, certainly of his dis- qualifications, — can you wonder he is violerit f He sees every pretended obstacle to his emancipation vanished ; Catholic Europe your ally, the Bourbon on the throne, the emperor a captive, the pope a friend ; the aspersions on his faith disproved by his allegiance to you against, alternately, every Catholic potentate in Christendom, and he feels himself branded with hereditary degra- dation, — can you wonder^ then^ that he is violent f He petitioned humbly ; his tameness was construed into a proof of apathy. He petitioned boldly; his remonstrance was considered as an impudent andacity. He petitioned in peace ; he was told it was not the time. He petitioned in war ; he was told it was not the time. A sti'ange interval, a prodigy in politics, a pause between peace and war, which appeared to be just made for him, arose ; I allude to the period between the retreat of Louis and the restoration of Bonaparte : he petitioned then, and was told it was not the time. Oh, shame ! shame ! shame 1 I hope he will petition no more to a parliament so equivocating. However, I am not sorry they did so equivocate, because I think they have suggested one common remedy for the grievances of both countries, and that remedy is, a reform of that PARLIAMENT. SALATHIEL TO TITUS. Son of Yespasian, I am at this hour a poor man, as I may in the next be an exile or a slave : I have ties 82 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. to life as strong as ever were bound round the heart of man: I stand here a suppliant for the life of one whose loss would imbitter mine! Yet, not for wealth unlimited, for the safety of my family, for the life of the noble victim that is now standing at the place of tor- ture, dare I abandon, dare I think the impious thought of abandoning the cause of the City of Holiness. Titus ! in the name of that Being, to whom the wis- dom of the eartli is folly, 1 adjure you to beware. Je- rusalem is sacred. Her crimes have often wrought her misery, — often has she been trampled by the armies of the stranger. But she is still the City of the Omnipo- tent ; and never was blow inflicted on her by man, that was not terribly repaid. The AssjTian came, the mightiest power of the world: he plundered her temple, and led her people into cap- tivity. How long was it before his empire was a dream, his dynasty extinguished in blood, and an enemy on his throne? — The Persian came: from her protector, he turned into her oppressor; and his empire was swept away like the dust of the desert ! — The Syrian smote her: the smiter died in agonies of remorse ; and where is his kingdom now? — The Egyptain smote her: and who now sits on the throne of the Ptolemies ? Pompey came: the invincible, the conqueror of a thousand cities, the light of E-ome ; the lord of Asia, riding on the very wings of victory. But he pro- faned her temple ; and from that hour he went down, — down, like a millstone plunged into the ocean ! Blind counsel, rash ambition, womanish fears, were upon the great statesman and warrior of Rome. Where does he sleep ? What sands were colored with his blood ? The universal conqueror died a slave, by the hand of a THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 83 slave I Crassiis came at the head of the legions : he plundered the sacred vessels of the sanctuary. Ven- geance followed him, and he was cursed by the curse of God. Where are the bones of the robber and his host? Go, tear them from the jaws of the lion and the wolf of Parthia, — their fitting tomb ! You, too, son of Yespasian, maybe commissioned for the punishment of a stiff-necked and rebellious people. You may scourge our naked vice by force of arms ; and then you may return to your own land exulting in the conquest of the fiercest enemy of Rome. But shall you escape the common fate of the instrument of evil? Shall you see a peaceful old age? Shall a son of yours ever sit upon the throne? Shall not rather some monster of your blood efface the memory of your virtues, and make Rome, in bitterness of soul, curse the Flavian name ? t^^^y- PAE T II POETIC PIECES "I DON'T CAEE." Old "Don't Care" is a murderer foul, Yes, a murderer foul is he ; He beareth a halter in his hand. And his staff is the gallows-tree ; And slyly he follows his victim on. Through high degree and low, And strangles him there when least aware. And striketh the fatal blow, — Hanging his victim high in the air, A villain strong, is old " Don't Care !" He looks on the babe at its mother's breast. And blighteth that blossom fair ; For its young buds wither, and fade, and die, 'Neath the gaze of old " Don't Care !" And in place of these there springeth up Full many a poisonous weed, And their tendrils coil around the victim's heart,- A rank and loathsome breed : Blighting the spirit young and fair, A villain, in truth, is old " Don't Care !" <84) THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 85 He meeteth bold manhood on his way, And wrestleth with him there ; He falls a sure and an easy prey To the strength of old ** Don't Care :'* Then he plants his foot on the victim's breast, And shouteth with demon joy, And treadeth the life from his panting heart, And exulteth to destroy, — Crushing bold manhood everywhere ; A villain, indeed, is old ** Don't Care !" THE KAISER, The Kaiser's hand from all his foes Had won him glory and repose ; Richly through his rejoicing laud Were felt the blessings of his hand ; And when at eve he sought his rest, A myriad hearts his slumbers blessed. In midnight's hush a tempest broke ; — Throughout his realm its myriads woke ; And by the lightning's rapid flash. And 'mid the thunder's bellowing crash, In feith to heaven their prayers they spake. For Christ's and for the Kaiser's sake. But with a start, and with a pang, Up from his couch the Kaiser sprang ; What ! feareth he who never feared When bloody deaths through hosts careered ? What ! can the tempest's passing sound That heart of battles thus confound ? No ! no ! But in its deepest deep It wakes a cry no more to THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEE. And there ! and tliere ! in wrath begin The pangs, — the power of secret sin. A blow is dealt, — a strife is stirred, — Without, the storm may pass unheard I And, therefore, from his palace door He passed into the loud uproar ; In wildest wiud, and blackest night, He passed away in sudden flight : 'Mid lightning, rain, and thunder's roll. He went, — a fire within his soul. The Kaiser went in storm and night, But ne'er returned in peace and light ; Astonished thousands asked his lot. Love sought, and sought, but found him not ; But conscience did what conscience would, And sealed its errand, — blood for blood ! [W. Ho Witt. BBENAEDIiTE DU BOKN.. Kjng Henry sat upon his throne. And, full of wrath and scorn, His eye a recreant knight surveyed, — Sir Bernardine du Born. And he that haughty glance returned. Like lion in his lair. And loftily his unchanged brow Gleamed through his crisped hair. *' Thou art a traitor to the realm ! Lord of a lawless band ! The bold in speech, the fierce in broil. The troubler of our land ! I THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 87 Thy castles and thy rebel towers Are forfeit to the crown ; And thou beneath the Norman axe Shall end thy base renown ! **Deig-n'st thou no word to bar thy doom, — Thou with strange madness fired ? Hath reason quite forsook thy breast V* Plantagenet inquired. Sir Bernard turned him toward the king. And blenched not in his pride ; *' My reason failed, most gracious liege, The year Prince Henry died.*' Quick, at that name, a cloud of woe Passed o'er the monarch's brow ; Touched was that bleeding chord of love, ■ To which the mightiest bow. And backward swept the tide of years ; Again his first-born moved, — The fair, the graceful, the sublime, The erring, yet beloved. And ever, cherished by his side. One chosen friend was near. To share in boyhood's ardent sport. Or youth's untamed career ; With him the merry chase he sought. Beneath the dewy morn. With him in knightly tourney rode This Bernardine du Born. Then in the mourning father's soul Each trace of ire grew dim. And what his buried idol loved Seemed cleansed of guilt to him ;— 88 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. And faintly through his tears he spoke, ** God send his grace to thee ! And, for the dear sake of the dead, Go forth, unscathed and free." [sigoumey. THE AMERICAN PATRIOT'S SONG. Hark ! hear ye the sounds that the winds on their pinions Exultingly roll from the shore to the sea, With a voice that resounds through her boundless dominions? 'T is Columbia calls on her sons to be free ! Behold on yon summits, where heaven has throned her, How she starts from her proud inaccessible seat ; With nature's impregnable ramparts around her, And the cataract's thunder and foam at her feet ! In the breeze of her mountains her loose locks are shaken. While the soul-stirring notes of her warrior-song From the rock to the valley re-echo, — ''Awaken, Awaken, ye hearts that have slumbered too long !'* Yes, despots ! too long did your tyranny hold us. In a vassalage vile, ere its weakness was known ; Till we learned that the links of the chain that controlled us Were forged by the fears of its captives alone. Go, tame the wild torrent, or stem with a straw [them ; The proud surges that sweep o'er the strand that confines But presume not again to give freemen a law, Nor think, with the chains they have broken, to bind them. [Anonymous. THE FLIGHT OF XERXES. I SAW him on the battle-eve. When, like a king, he bore him, — Proud hosts in glittering helm and greave. And prouder chiefs before him : THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 89 The warrior, and the warrior's deeds, — The morrow, and the morrow's meeds, — No dauntiiip' thouo-hts came- o'er him ; He looked around him, and his eye Defiance flashed to earth and sky. He looked on ocean, — its broad breast Was covered with his fleet ; On earth : — and saw, from east to west. His bannered millions meet : While rock, and glen, and cave, and coast. Shook with the war-cry of that host, The thunder of their feet ! He heard the imperial echoes ring, — He heard, — and felt himself a king. I saw him next alone : — nor camp, Nor chief, his steps attended ; Nor banner blazed, nor courser's tramp With war-cries proudly blended. He stood alone, whom fortune high So lately seemed to deify ; He, who with heaven contended, Fled like a fugitive and slave ! Behind, — the foe ; — before, — the wave : He stood ; — fleet, army, treasure, gone,— Alone, and in despair ! But wave and wind swept ruthless on. For they were monarchs there ; And Xerxes, in a single barque, Where late his thousand ships were dark. Must all their fury dare : — What a revenge, — a trophy, this, — For thee, immortal Salamis ! CMiss Jewsbury. 8 90 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. Under a spreading chestnut tree. The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he. With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his bmwny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long. His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat; He earns whatever he can. And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man "Week out, week in, from morn till night. You can hear his bellows blow ; You hear him swing his heavy sledge With measured beat and slow. Like a sexton rino-ino- the old kirk chimes When the evening sun is low. And children, coming home from school, Look in at the open door : They love to see a flaming forge. And hear the bellows roar. And catch the burning sparks, that fly Like chaff from a thrashing-floor. He goes, on Sunday, to the church. And sits among his boys ; He hears the parson pray and preach. He hears his daughter's voice. Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 91 It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Sinoino- in Paradise ! o o He needs must think of her once more, How in the g-j-ave she lies ; And with his hard rough hand he wipes A tear from out his eyes. Toiling, rejoicing', sorrowing, Onward throuo-h life he goes : Each morning sees some task begun. Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend. For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus, at the flaming foro-e of Life, Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus, on its sounding anvil shaped. Each burning deed and thought. [LongfeUoTr. BERNAEDO AND KING ALPHONSO. With some good ten of his chosen men, Bernardo hath appeared. Before them all in the palace hall. The Ivino- kino- to beard : With cap in hand and eye on ground, He came in reverend guise. But ever and anon he frowned, And flame broke from his eyes. A curse upon thee," cries the king, ''Who com'st unbid to me! But what from traitor's blood should spring, Save traitor like to thee ? 92 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. His sire, lords, had a traitor's heart, — Perchance our champion brave May think it were a pious part To share Don Sancho's grave." "Whoever told this tale, The king hath rashness to repeat," Cries Bernard, — " here my gage I fling Before the liar's feet. 'No treason was in Sancho's blood, — No stain in mine doth lie : Below the throne, what knight will own The coward calumny ? "Ye swore upon your kingly faith. To set Don Sancho free ; But, curse upon your paltering breath ! The lio'ht he ne'er did see : o He died in dungeon cold and dim, By Alphonso's base decree ; And visage blind, and mangled limb. Were all they gave to me. ** The king that swerveth from his word Hath stained his purple black : No Spanish lord will draw his sword Behind a liar's back. But noble vengeance shall be mine ; And open hate I '11 show ; — The king hath injured Carpio's line, And Bernard is his foe !" " Seize, — seize him ! " loud the king doth scream : ** There are a thousand here ; Let his foul blood this instant stream ; — What ! caitiffs, do you fear ? THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 93 Seize, — seize the traitor !" But not one To move a finger dareth : Bernardo standeth by the throne. And calm his sword he bareth. He drew the falchion from its sheath, And held it up on high ; And all the hall was still as death : — Cries Bernard, ** Here am I; And here 's the sword that owns no lord. Excepting heaven and me : Fain would I know who dares its point, — King, conde, or grandee." Then to his mouth his horn he drew, — It hung below his cloak ; His ten true men the signal knew, And through the ring they broke. With helm on head, and blade in hand. The knights the circle break. And back the lordlings 'gan to stand. And the false king to quake. ■ Ha ! Bernard !" quoth Alphonso, ''What means this warlike g'uise? Ye know full well I jested ; — Ye know your worth I prize !'* But Bernard turned upon his heel. And, smiling, passed away. Long rued Alphonso and Castile The jesting of that day ! [Lockhart. THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN. Wide o'er Bannock's heathy wold Scotland's deathful banners roll'd, And spread their wings of sprinkled gold To the purpling east. 94: THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEE. Freedom beamed in every eye ; Devotion breathed in every sigh ; Freedom heaved their souls on high, And steeled each hero's breast. Charging then the coursers sprang, Sword and helmet clashing rang, Steel-clad warriors' mixing clang Echoed round the field. Deathful see their eyeballs glare ! See the nerves of battle bare I Arrowy tempests cloud the air. And glance from every shield. Hark ! the bowman's quivering strings ! Death on gray-goose pinions springs ! Deep they dip their dappled wings ' . Drunk in heroes' gore. Lo ! Edward, springing on the rear, Plies his Caledonian spear : Ruin marks his dread career. And sweeps them from the shore. See how red the streamlets flow ! See the reeling, yielding foe, How they melt at every blow ! Yet we shall be free ! Darker yet the strife appears ; Forest dread of flaming spears ! Hark ! a shout the welkin tears ! Bruce has victory ! HENEY Y. AT THE SIEGE OF HAEFLEUR. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there 's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility ; THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 95 But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the 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. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostrils wide, Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit To its full height ! — On, on, you noble English, Whose blood is set 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 aro-umeut. o Be copy now for men of grosser blood. And teach them how to war ; and you, good yeomen. Whose limbs are made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture : let us swear Tliat you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not : For tliere is none of you so mean ,and base Tliat hath not noble luster in your eye : I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Sti-aining upon the start. The game 's a-foot ; Follow your spirit, and upon this charge, Cry, Heaven tor Harry, England and St. George ! [Shakspeare. HENRY Y. ENCOURAama HIS SOLDIERS. What 's he that wishes for more men from England ? My cousin Westmoreland ! No, my fair cousin. If we are marked to die, we are enow To do our country loss ; and if to live, The fewer men the greater share of honor : Heaven's will ! I pray thee wish not one man more. In truth I am not covetous of gold, 96 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Nor care I who dotli feed upon my cost ; It yearns me not if men my garments wear ; Such outward things dwell not in my desires : But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive. No, my good lord, wish not a man from England : Heaven's peace ! I would not lose so great an honor As one more man, methinks, would share from me, For the best hopes I have. Wish not one more : Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host. That he who hath no stomacli to this fight. Let him depart, his passport shall be made. And crowns for convoy put into his purse : We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is called the feast of Crispian ; He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand on tiptoe when this day is named. And rouse him at the name of Crispian. Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars. — This story shall the good man teach his son ; And Crispian, Crispian, ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world. But we in it shall be remembered ! We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ! [Shakspeare. NEW ENGLAND'S DEAD. " The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle for independence, now lie min- gled with the soil of every State, from New^ England to Georgia ; and there they will remain forever." — -Webster. New England's dead ! — New England's dead ! On every hill they lie ; On every field of strife made red By bloody victory. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 97 Each valley, where the battle poured Its red and awful tide. Beheld the brave New England sword. With slaughter deeply dyed. Their boues are on the northern hill, And on the southern plain, By brook and river, lake and rill. And by the roaring main. The land is holy where they fought. And holy where they fell ; For by their blood that land was bought. The land they loved so well. Then glory to that valiant band, The honored saviors of the land ! They left the plowshare in the mold, Their flocks and herds without a fold, . The sickle in the unshorn grain. The corn, half-garnered on the plain. And mustered in their simple dress. For wrono's to seek a stern redress ; To right those wrongs, come weal, come woe, — To perish or o'ercome the foe. O ! few and weak their numbers were, — A handful of brave men ; But to their God they gave their prayer. And rushed to battle then. The God of battles heard their cry, And sent to them the victory. [M'LeiUn. • ARNOLD WINKELREID. ''Make way for liberty!" — he cried; Made way for liberty, and died ! — It must not be : this day, this hour, Annihilates the oppressor's power ! 7 98 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. All Switzerland is in the field. She will not fly, she cannot yield, — She must not fell ; her better fate Here gives her an immortal date. Few were the numbers she could boast; But every freeman was a host. And felt as though himself were he. On whose sole arm hung victory. It did depend on one indeed ; Behold him, — Arnold Winkelreid ! There sounds not to the trump of fame The echo of a nobler name. Unmarked he stood amid the throng. In rumination deep and long, Till you might see, with sudden grace. The very thought come o'er his face ; And, by the motion of his form. Anticipate the bursting storm ; And, by the uplifting of his brow. Tell where the bolt would strike, and how. But 'twas no sooner thought than done! The field was in a moment won : — **Make way for liberty!" he cried. Then ran, with arms extended wide. As if his dearest friend to clasp ; Ten spears he swept within his grasp : *• Make way for liberty ! " he cried. Their keen points met from side to side ; He bowed amongst them like a tree. And thus made way for liberty. Swift to the breach his comrades fly : **Make way for liberty!" they cry, And through the Austrian phalanx dart, As rushed the spears through Arnold's heart THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 99 While instantaneous as his fall, Rout, ruin, panic, scattered all : An earthquake could not overthrow A city with a surer blow. Thus Switzerland again was free ; Thus death made way for liberty ! [Montgomery. LOOK NOT UPON THE WINE." (v) Look not upon the wine when it \ Is red within the cup ! Stay not for pleasure when she fills Her tempting- beaker up ! Though clear its depths, and rich its glow, A spell of madness lurks below. They say *tis pleasant on tlie lip, And merry on the brain ; They say it stirs the sluggish blood. And dulls the tooth of pain. Ay, — but within its glowing deeps A stinging serpent, unseen, sleeps. Its rosy lights will turn to fire. Its coolness change to thirst ; And, by its mirth, within the brain A sleepless worm is nursed. There's not a bubble at the brim That does not carry food for him. Then dash the brimming cup aside. And spill its purple wine ; Take not its madness to thy lip, — Let not its curse be thine. *Tis red and rich, — but grief and woe Are hid those rosy depths below. [wmia. 100 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. THE VENGEANCE OF MUDAEA. To the chase goes Rodrigo, with hound and with hawk ; But what game he desires is revealed in his talk : ** O ! in vain have I slaughtered the Infants of Lara ; There 's an heir in his hall, — there 's the bastard Mudara, — There 's the son of the renegade, — spawn of Mahoun : If I meet with Mudara, my spear brings him down.'* While Rodrigo rides on in the heat of his wrath, A stripling, armed cap-a-pie, crosses his path : "Good morrow, young esquire/' — "Good morrow, old knight." *' Will you ride with our party, and share our delight ? " — ** Speak your name, courteous stranger," the stripling replied ; " Speak your name and your lineage, ere with you I ride." — *' My name is Rodrigo," thus answered the knight ; ** Of the line of old Lara, though ban-ed from my right ; For the kinsman of Salas proclaims for the heir Of our ancestor's castles and forestries fair, A bastard, a renegade's offspring, — Mudara, — Whom I'll send, if I can, to the Infants of Lara." — " I behold thee, disgrace to thy lineage ! — with joy I behold thee, thou murderer ! " answered the boy : ** The bastard you curse, you behold him in me ; But his brothers' avenger that bastard shall be. Draw ! for I am the renegade's offspring, Mudara ; We shall see who inherits the life-blood of Lara! " — ** I am armed for- the forest chase, — not for the fight ; Let me go for my shield and my sword," cries the knight. — ** Now the mercy you dealt to my brothers of old, Be the hope of that mercy the comfort you hold : Die, foeman to Sancha, — die, traitor to Lara ! " — As he spake, there was blood on the spear of Mudara. [Lockharfc, THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 101 THE FIREMAN. Hoarse wint'iy blasts a solemn requiem sung To the departed day, Upon whose bier The velvet pall of midnight had been flung, And nature mourned through one wide hemisphere. Silence and darkness held their cheerless sway, Save in ihe haunts of riotous excess ; And half the world in dreamy slumbers lay. Lost in the maze of sweet forgetfulness. When lo ! upon the startled ear, There broke a sound so dread and drear, — As, like a sudden peal of thunder, Burst the bands of sleep asunder, And filled a thousand throbbino- hearts with fear. o Hark ! the faithful watchman's cry Speaks a conflagration nigh ! — See ! yon glare upon the sky, Confirms the fearful tale. The deep-mouthed bells, with rapid tone, Combine to make the tidings known ; Afi'righted silence now has flown, And sounds of terror fright the chilly gale ! At the first note of this discordant din, The gallant fireman from his slumber starts ; Reckless of toil and danger, if he win The tributary meed of grateful hearts. From pavement rough, or frozen ground. His engine's rattling wheels resound, And soon before his eyes The lurid flames, with horrid glare, Mingle(i with murky vapors rise. In wreathy folds upon the air, And vail the frowning skies ! 102 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Sudden a shriek assails his heart, — A female shriek, so piercing wild. As makes his very life-blood start : — *' My child ! Almighty God, my child ! " He hears, And 'gainst the tottering wall. The ponderous ladder rears ; While blazing fragments round him fall. And crackling sounds assail his ears. His sinewy arm, with one rude crash. Hurls to the earth the opposing sash ; And heedless of the startling din, — Though smoky volumes round him roll. The mother's shriek has pierced his soul. See ! see ! he plunges in ! The admiring crowd, with hopes and fears. In breathless expectation stands, When lo ! the daring youth appears. Hailed by a burst of warm, ecstatic cheers. Bearing the child triumphant in his hands ! [Anonymous. i BATTLE OF WATERLOO. There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright The lamps 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 ! THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 103 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 unconfined ; Ko sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet To chase the glowing hours with flying fleet. — 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 is, — the cannon's opening roar ! Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed 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 ? 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 ; 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, — "The foe! they cornel they come ! " [Byron. THE POUNDEE. The Christians have beleaguered the famous walls of Xeres, Among them are Don Alvar and Don Diego Perez, And many other gentlemen, who, day succeeding day, Give challenge to the Saracen and all his chivalry. 104 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. When rages the hot battle before the gates of Xeres, By trace of gore ye may explore the dauntless path of Perez. No knio'ht like Don Dieo-o,— no sword like his is found In all the host, to hew the boast of paynims to the ground. It fell one day when furiously they battled on the plain, Diego shivered both his lance and trusty blade in twain ; The Moors that saw it shouted, for esquire none was near, ! To serve Diego at his need with falchion, mace, or spear. Loud, loud he blew his bugle, sore troubled was his eye, But by God's grace before his face there stood a tree full nigh,— An olive-tree with branches strong, close by the wall of Xeres, — " Yon goodly bough will serve, I trow," quoth Don Diego Perez. A gnarled branch he soon did wrench down from that olive strong. Which o'er his head-piece brandishing, he spurs among the throng. God wot ! full many a pagan must in his saddle reel ! — What leech may cure, what beadsman shrive, if once that "weight ye feel ? But when Don Alvar saw him thus bruising down the foe. Quoth he, " I 've seen some flail-armed man belabor barley so, Sure mortal mold did ne'er enfold such mastery of power ; Let's call Diego Perez the pounder, from this hour." [Lockhart. MAECO BOZZAEIS. 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 : THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 105 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. At midnight, in the forest shades, Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band ; True as the steel to their tried blades. Heroes in heart and hand. There had the Persian thousands stood, — There had the glad earth drank their blood. On old Platea'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. An hour passed on : the Turk awoke ; That bright dream was his last ; He woke, — to hear his sentry's shriek, **To arms! they come ! the Greek! the Greek!" He woke, — to die 'midst flame and smoke, And shout, and groan, and saber 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 armed foe expires ; Strike, — for your altars and your fires ; Strike, — for the green graves of your sires ; God, — and your native land !" ^ They fought, — like brave men, long and well ; They piled that ground with Moslem slain; 106 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. They conquered, — but Bozzaris fell. Bleeding at every vein. His few surviving comrades saw His smile, when rang their proud hurrah, And the red field was won ; Then saAv in death his eyelids close Calmly, as to a night's repose. Like flowers at set of sun. 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 Which close the pestilence are broke, And crowded cities wail its stroke ; — Come in consumption's ghastly form. The earthquake shock, the ocean 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 Tlie 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. cHaUeok. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 107 THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHiT MOORE. Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to tlie rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where , our hero was buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin inclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead. And we bitterly thought of the morrow. We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they '11 talk of the spirit that 's gone. And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, — But little he '11 reck, if they '11 let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done. When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. 108 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEK. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, — But we left him alone with his glory! twoife. THE SPIDER AND THE BEE. With viscous thread, and finger fine, The spider spun his filmy line ; The extremes with stronger cordage tied. And wrought the web from side to side. Beneath the casement's pendant roof. He hung aloft the shadowy woof: — There in the midst compressed he lies, And patient waits the expected prize. When, lo ! on sounding pinion strong, A bee, incautious, rushed along; Nor of the gauzy net aware, Till all entangled in the snare. Enraged, he plies his buzzing wings, His far-resounding war-song sings ; Tears all that would his course control. And threatens ruin to the whole. With dread, with gladness, with surprise, The spider saw the dangerous prize; Then rushed relentless on his foe. Intent to give the deadly blow. But as the spider came in view, The bee his poisoned dagger drew ; — Back at the sight the spider ran. And now his crafty work began. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 109 With lengthened arnas the snares he plied, And turned the bee from side to side ; His legs he tied, his wings he bound, And whirled his victim round and round. And now with cautious steps and slow. He came to give the fatal blow ; When, frightened at the trenchant blade. The bee one desperate effort made. The fabric breaks, — the cords give way ; His wings resume their wonted play; Far off on gladsome plume he flies, And drags the spider through the skies. Shun vice's snares ; — but if you 're caught. Boldly resist, and parley not; Then, though your foe you can not kill. You '11 lead him captive where you will. [AnonjTnoua. DEATH-SONG OF OUTx\LISSI. **And I could weep;" — the Oneida chief His descant wildly thus begun ; "But that I may not stain with grief The dealh-song of my father's son ! Or bow this head in woe ; For by my wrongs, and by my wrath ! To-morrow Areouski's breath, (That fires yon lieaven with storms and death). Shall light us to the foe : And we shall share, my Christian boy ! The foeman's blood, the avenger's joy ! 110 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. **But thee, my flower, whose breath was given By milder genii o'er the deep. The spirits of the white man's heaven Forbid not thee to weep : — Nor will the Christian host. Nor will thy father's spirit grieve To see thee, on the battle's eve. Lamenting take a mournful leave Of her who loved thee most : She was the rainbow to thy sight ! Thy sun, — thy heaven, — of lost delight ! — ** To-morrow let us do or die ! But when the bolt of death is hurled. Ah ! whither then with thee to fly, Shall Outalissi roam the world ? — Seek we thy once loved home ? The hand is gone that cropt its flowers ; Unheard their clock repeats its hours ! Cold is the hearth within their bowers ! And should we thither roam, Its echoes, and its empty tread. Would sound like voices from the dead ! ** But hark, the trump ! — to-morrow thou In glory's fires shalt dry thy tears : Even from the land of shadows now My father's awful ghost appears, Amid the clouds that round us roll ; He bids my soul for battle thirst. He bids me dry the last, — the first, — The only tear that ever burst From Outalissi' s soul ; Because I may not stain with grief The death-song of an Indian chief." [Campbeii. THE HIGH SCHOOL &PEAKER. Ill THEBENDEDBOW. There was heard the sound of a coming foe. There was sent through Britain a bended bow ; And a voice was poured on the free winds far, As the land rose up at the sound of war : ** Heard ye not the battle horn ? Reaper ! leave thy golden corn ! Leave it for the birds of heaven ; Swords must flash, and spears be riven : Leave it for the winds to shed, — Arm ! ere Britain's turf grow red ! " And the reaper armed, like a freeman's son ; And the bended bow and the voice passed on. ** Hunter ! leave the mountain chase ! Take the falchion from its place ! Let the wolf go free to-day ; Leave him for a nobler prey ! Let the deer ungalled sweep by, — Arm thee ! Britain's foes are nigh ! " And the hunter armed, ere the chase was done ; And the bended bow and the voice passed on. " Chieftain ! quit the joyous feast !- Stay not till the song hath ceased : Though the mead be foaming bright, Though the fire gives ruddy light. Leave the hearth and leave the hall, — Arm thee ! Britain's foes must fall ! " And the chieftain armed, and the horn was blown ; And the bended bow and the voice passed on. " Prince ! thy father's deeds are told In the bower and in the hold ! Where the goatherd's lay is sung, Where the minstrel's harp is strung ! 112 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Foes are on thy native sea, — Give our bards a tale of thee ! '* And the prince came armed, like a leader's son ; And the bended bow and the voice passed on. ''Mother! stay thou not thy boy! He must learn the battle's joy. Sister ! bring the sword and spear, Give thy brother words of cbeer ! Maiden ! bid thy lover part ; Britain calls the strong in heart ! " And the bended bow and the voice passed on ; And the bards made song of a battle won. [Mrs. Hemans. LOCHIN YAR. Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide border his steed was the best. And save his good broad-sword he weapon had none. He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone. He swam the Eske river where ford there was none ; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late ; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war. Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he entered the Netherby hall, 'Mong bride' s-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) ** O ! come ye in peace here, or come ye in war. Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar ? " j THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER.. 113 ** I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied ; — Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide, — And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.'* The bride kissed the goblet ; the knight took it up, He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar : — ** Now tread we a measure ! " said young Lochinvar. So stately Ins form, and so lovely her face. That never a hall such a galliard did grace ; While her mother did fret and her father did fume. And tlie bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume ; And the bride-maidens whispered, '"Twere better by far. To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear. When they reached the hall door, where the charger stood near ; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung. So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! " She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur : They '11 have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Loch- invar. There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode, and they ran ; There was racing and chasing on Canoby lea, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. [Soott. 10 114 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEE. THE VISION OF BBLSHAZZAR. The king was on his throne. The satraps thronged the hall ; A thousand bright lamps shone O'er that high festival. A thousand cups of gold. In Judah deemed divine, — Jehovah's vessels, — hold The godless heathen's wine ! In that same hour and hall, The fingers of a hand Came forth against the wall. And wrote as if on sand : The fingers of a man, — A solitary hand Along the letters ran. And traced them like a wand. The monarch saw, and shook. And bade no more rejoice ; All bloodless waxed his look. And tremulous his voice : — **Let the men of lore appear. The wisest of the earth. And expound the words of fear, Which mar our royal mirth.'* Chaldea's seers are good. But here they have no skill; And the unknown letters stood Untold and awful still. And Babel's men of age Are wise and deep in lore ; But now they were not sage. They saw, — but knew no more. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 115 A captive in the land, A stranger and a youth, He heard the king's command, He saw that writing's truth ; The lamps around were bright, The prophecy in view ; He read it on that night, — The morrow proved it true. Belshazzar's grave is made. His kingdom passed away; He, in the balance weighed. Is light and worthless clay. The shroud his robe of state, His canopy the stone ; The Mede is at his gate ! The Persian on his throne ! " [Byron. WAK-SONG OF THE GREEKS, 1822. Again to the battle, Achaians ! Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance ; Our land, — the first garden of Liberty's tree, — It has been, and shall yet be, the land of the free ; For the cross of our faith is replanted. The pale dying crescent is daunted, And we march that the footprints of Mahomet's slaves, May be washed out in blood from our forefathers' graves ; Their spirits are hovering o'er us, And the sword shall to glory restore us. Ah ! what though no succor advances. Nor Chrisiendom's chivalrous lances Are stretched in our aid ? — Be the combat our own ! And we '11 perish or conquer more proudly alone : 1J6 ' THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEE. For we 've sworn by our country's assaulters, By the virgins they 've dragged from our altars, By our massacred patriots, our children in chains, By our heroes of old, and their blood in our veins, That living, we will be victorious, Or thac dying, our deaths shall be glorious. A breath of submission we breathe not ; The sword that we 've drawn we will sheathe not; Its scabbard is left where our martyrs are laid, And the vengeance of ages has whetted its blade. Earth may hide, — waves engulf, — fire consume us, But they shall not to slavery doom us : If they rule, it shall be o'er our ashes and graves ; — But we 've smote them already with fire on the waves, And new triumphs on land are before us. To the charge ! — Heaven's banner is o'er us ! [Caiapbell. WHAT IS TIME? I ASKED an aged man, a man of cares. Wrinkled, and curved, and white with hoary hairs Time is the warp of life," he said, " oh, tell The young, the fair, the gay, to weave it well!'* I asked the ancient, venei-able dead. Sages who wrote, and Avarriors who had bled : From the cold grave a hollow murmur flowed. Time sowed the seed we reap in this abode!" I asked a dying sinner, ere the tide Of life had left his veins: "Time!" he replied ; I've lost it! Ah, the treasure!" — and he died. I asked the golden sun and silver spheres. Those bright chronometers of days and years : They answered, "Time is but a meteor glare!" And bade us for eternity prepare. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. IIT I asked the seasons, in their annual round, Which beautify, or desolate the ground : And they replied (no oracle more wise), **'Tis folly's blank, and wisdom's highest prize!" I asked a spirit lost : but oh, the shriek That pierced my soul ! I shudder while I speak ! It cried, *'A particle, a speck, a mite Of endless years, duration infinite ! " Of things inanimate, my dial I Consulted, and it made me this reply : ** Time is the season fair of living well. The path of glory, or the path of hell." I asked my Bible : and methinks it said, " Time is the present hour, — the past is fled ; Live 1 live to-day ! — to-morrow never yet On any human being rose or set." I asked old father Time himself, at last. But in a moment he flew swiftly past : His chariot was a cloud, the viewless wind His noiseless steeds, which left no trace behind. [Marsdea. B OADICEA. When the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods. Sought, with an indignant mien. Counsel of her country's gods ; Sage, beneath a spreading oak, Sat the Druid, hoary chief, Every burning word he spoke. Full of rao-e and full of o'rief : — o o -■ Rome shall perish, — write that word In the blood that she has spilt ; Perish hopeless and abhorred. Deep in ruin as in guilt. ~ 118 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAE:ER. ** Other Romans shall arise. Heedless of a soldier's name, Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize, Harmony the path to fame. ** Then the progeny that springs From the forests of our land, Armed with thunder, clad with wings. Shall a wider world command. "Regions Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway. Where his eagles never flew, None invincible as they.'* Such the bard's prophetic words. Pregnant with celestial fire ; Bending as he swept the chords. Of his sweet but awful lyre. She, with all a monarch's pride. Felt them in her bosom glow, — Rushed to battle, fought and died, — Dying, hurled them at the foe : ** Ruffians ! pitiless as proud ! Heaven awards the vengeance due ! Empire is on us bestowed, — Shame and ruin wait on you ! " [Cowper. THE GRAVE OF THE GREYHOUND. The spearmen heard the bugle sound, And cheerly smiled the morn. And many a dog and many a hound Obeyed Lewellyn's horn. f, THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 119 And still he blew a louder blast, And gave a lustier cheer, — ** Come, Gelert, thou wert ne'er the last, Lewellyn's horn to hear. ** ! where does faithful Gelert roam, The flower of all his race ? So true, so brave, a lamb at home, A lion in the chase ! '* In sooth he was a peerless hound, The gift of royal John ; But now, no Gelert could be found, And all the chase rode on. And now, as o'er the rocks and dells The gallant chidings rise, All Snowdon's craggy chaos yells The many mingled cries. That day Lewellyn little loved The chase of hart or hare, And scant and small the booty proved, — For Gelert was not there. Unpleased, Lewellyn homeward hied ; When, near the portal seat. His truant Gelert he espied. Bounding his lord to greet. But when he gained his castle door. Aghast the chieftain stood ", The hound all o'er was smeared with gore, His lips, his fangs ran blood. Lewellyn gazed with fierce surprise. Unused such looks to meet ; His favorite checked his joyful guise. And crouched and licked his feet. 120 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Onward in haste Lewellyn pass'd, And on went Gelert too. And still where'er his eyes he cast, Fresh blood-drops shocked his view. O'er turned his infant's bed he found, With blood-stained covert rent ; And all around the walls and ground. With recent blood besprent. He called his child, — no voice replied ; He searched with terror wild : Blood, blood, he found on every side. Bat nowhere found his child. "Hell-hound! my child's by thee devoured," The frantic father cried. And to the hilt his vengeful sword He plunged in Gelert's side. His suppliant looks, as prone he fell. No pity could impart, But still his Gelert's dying yell Passed heavy o'er his heart. Aroused by Gelert's dying yell. Some slumberer wakened nigh. What words the parent's joy could tell. To hear his infant cry. Concealed beneath a tumbled heap. His hurried search had missed ; All glowing from his rosy sleep. The cherub boy he kissed. No wound had he, nor harm, nor dread ; But the same couch beneath. Lay a gaunt wolf, all torn and dead, Tremendous still in death. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 121 Ah, what was then Lewellyii's pain? For now the truth was clear ; His gallant hound the wolf had slain, To save Lewellyn's heir. [Spencer. THE MUMMY. And thou hast walked about (how strange a story!) In Thebes' streets three thousand years ago, When the Memnonium was in all its glory. And time had not begun to overthrow Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous. Of which the very ruins are tremendous. Speak ! for thou long enough hast acted dummy, Thou hast a tongue, come let us hear its tune : Thou 'rt standing on thy legs above ground, Mummy ! Revisiting the glimpses of the moon ; Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures. But with thy bones and flesh, and limbs and features. Tell us, — for doubtless thou canst recollect, To whom should we assign the sphynx's fame ? "Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect Of either pyramid that bears his name ? Is Pompey's pillar really a misnomer ? Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer ? Perhaps thou wert a Mason, and forbidden By oath to tell the mysteries of thy trade. Then say what secret melody was hidden In Memnon's statue, which at sunrise played ? Perhaps thou wert a priest, — if so, my struggles Are vain ; — Egyptian priests ne'er owned their juggles. 11 122 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Perchance that very hand, now pinioned flat, Has hob-a-nobbed with Pharaoh, glass to glass ; Or dropped a half-penny in Homer's hat, Or doflfed thine own to let Queen Dido pass, Or held, by Solomon's own invitation, A torch at the great temple's dedication. I need not ask thee if that hand, when armed, Has any Roman soldier mauled and knuckled. For thou wert dead, and buried, and embalmed. Ere Romulus and Remus had been suckled : — Antiquity appears to have begun Long after thy primeval race was run. Since first thy form was in this box extended, We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations ; The Roman empire has begun and ended ; New worlds have risen, — we have lost old nations. And countless kings have into dust been humbled, While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled. Didst thou not bear the pother o'er thy head When the great Persian conqueror, Cambyses, Marched armies o'er thy tomb, with thundering tread, O'erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis, And shook the pyramids with fear and wonder. When the oioantic Memnon fell asunder ? o o If the tomb's secrets may not be confessed. The nature of thy private life unfold ; — A heart has throbbed beneath that leathern breast. And tears adown that dusky cheek have rolled : — Have children climbed those knees, and kissed that face? What was thy name and station, age and race ? THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 123 Statue of flesh, — immortal of the dead ! Imperishable type of evanescence ! Posthumous man, who quitt'st thy narrow bed, And standest uudecayed within our presence, Thou wilt hear nothing till the judgment morning. When the great trump shall thrill thee with its warn- in o- [Smith. THE AMEEICAN FLAG. When Freedom, from her mountain height. Unfurled her standard to the air. She tore the azure robe of night. And set the stars of glory there ! She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And sti'iped its pure celestial white With streakino-s of the mornino- lio-ht : Then from his mansion in the sun. She called her eagle-bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen band ! Majestic monarch of the cloud ! Who rearest aloft thy regal form, To hear the tempest trumping loud. And see the lightning lances driven, Wlien stride the warriors of the storm. And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven 1 Child of the sun ! to thee 'tis given To guard the banner of the free, To hover in the sulphur smoke. To ward away the battle-stroke. And bid its blendings shine afar. Like rainbows on the cloud of war, — The harbino-ers of victory. Q J' 124 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Flag of the seas ! on ocean's wave Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave, "When Death, careering on the gale. Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frighted waves rush wildly back, Before the broadside's reeling rack ; The dying wand'rer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee. And smile to see thy splendors fly. In triumph o'er his closing eye. [Dr. Drake. PARTING OF DOUGLAS AND MARMION. "Not far advanced was morning day. When Marmion did his troops array. To Surrey's camp to ride ; He had safe-conduct for his band. Beneath the royal seal and hand. And Douglas gave a guide; The ancient Earl, with slately grace. Would Clara on her palfrey place. And whispered, in an under tone, ** Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown/* The train from out the caslle drew ; But Marmion stopped to bid adieu : — ''Though- something I might plain," he said, ** Of cold respect to stranger guest, Sent hither by your king's behest, While in Tantallon's towers I staid. Part we in friendship from your land. And, noble Earl, receive my hand." — But Douglas round him drew his cloak. Folded his arms, and thus he spoke : *' My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still Be open, at my sovereign's will. THE HIGH SCHOOL SrEAKER. 125 To each one whom he lists, howe'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation stone, — The hand of Douglas is his own, And never shall, in friendly grasp. The hand of such as Marmion clasp." Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, And shook h^'s very frame with ire. And, — ** This to me ! " he said, — **An 'twere not for thy hoary beard. Such hand as Marmion's had not spared To cleave the Douglas' head ! And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer, He, who does England's message here, Although the meanest in her state. May well, proud Angus, be thy mate ; And, Douglas, more I tell thee here. Even in thy pitch of pride, Here in thy hold, thy vassals near, (Nay, never look upon your lord. And lay your hands upon your sword,) I tell thee, thou 'rt defied ! And if thou saidst, I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here. Lowland or Higliland, far or near. Lord Angus, thou hast lied!" On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage O'ercame the ashen hue of ao-e : Fierce he broke forth, — " And dar'st thou then To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall ? And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go ? — No, by St. Bride of Bothwell, no !— 126 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. Up drawbridge, grooms, — what, warder, ho ! Let the portcullis fall." — Lord Marmion turned, — well was his need. And dashed the rowels in his steed, Like arrow through the archway sprung. The ponderous grate behind him rung : To pass there was such scanty room. The bars, descending, razed his plume. The steed along the drawbridge flies. Just as it trembled on the rise ; Not lighter does the swallow skim Along the smooth lake's level brim. And when Lord Marmion reached his band, He halts, and turns with clenched hand, And shout of loud defiance pours, And shook his gauntlet at the towers. ** Horse ! horse ! the Douglas cried, **and chase I*' But soon he reined his fury's pace : "A royal messenger he came, Though most unworthy of the name. — Saint Mary mend my fiery mood ! Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood ; I thought to slay him where he stood. — 'T is pity of him too," he cried ; " Bold can he speak, and fairly ride : I warrant him a warrior tried." — With this his mandate he recalls, And slowly seeks his castle halls. [Scott. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood ! When fond recollection presents them to view ; The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild -wood. And every loved spot which my infancy knew ; THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 127 The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it. The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell ; The cot of my lather, the dairy-house nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well ; The old oaken bucket, — the iron-bound bucket, — That moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure ; For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure. The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it with hands that were glowing. And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell ; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well ; The old oaken bucket, — the iron-bound bucket, — The moss-covered bucket arose from the well. How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it. As poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips ! Not a full, blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips. And now, far removed from that loved situation, The tear of regret will intrusively swell. As fancy reverts to my father's plantation. And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well ; The old oaken bucket, — the iron-bound bucket, — The moss-covered bucket which hangs in the well. [Woodworth. WAKKEN'S ADDKESS. Stand ! the ground 's your own, my braves ! Will ye give it up to slaves ? Will ye look for greener graves ? Hope ye mercy still? 128 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. What's the mercy despots feel? Hear it in that battle peal ! Read it on yon bristling steel ! Ask it, — ye wlio will. Fear ye foes who kill for hire ? Will ye to your homes retire ? Look behind you ! they 're a-jQre ! And, before you, see Who have done it ! — From the vale On they come ! — and will ye quail ? — Leaden rain and iron hail Let their welcome be ! In the God of battles trust ! Die we may, — and die we must : — But, oh ! where can dust to dust Be consigned so well. As where heaven its dews shall shed On the martyred patriot's bed. And the rocks shall raise their head, Of his deeds to tell? [Pierpont. THE GIPSY WAKDEREE. 'T was night, and the farmer, his fireside near, O'er a pipe quaffed his ale, stout and old ; The hinds were in bed, when a voice struck his ear, — Let me in, I beseech you ! " just so ran the prayer, — " Let me in ! — I am dying with cold." To his servant, the farmer cried, — " Sue, move thy feet. Admit the poor wretch from the storm ; For our chimney will not lose a jot of its heat. Although the night wanderer may there find a seat, And beside our wood embers orow warm. I THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 129 At that instant a gipsy girl, humble in pace, Bent before him, his pity to crave : He, starling, exclaimed, *' Wicked fiend, quit this place ! A parent's curse light on the whole gipsy race ! They have bowed me almost to the grave ! " ** Good sir, as our tribe passed the churchyard below, I just paused, the turf graves to survey, — I fancied the spot where my mother lies low, — When suddenly came on a thick fall of snow. And I know not a step of my way." " This is craft !" cried the farmer, — *' if I judge aright, I suspect thy cursed gang may be near ; Thou wouldst open the doors to the ruffians of night ; Thy eyes o'er the plunder now rove with delight. And on me with sly treachery leer ! " With a shriek, — on the floor the young gipsy girl fell ; *' Help," cried Susan, " your child to uprear ! Your long stolen child ! — she remembers you well, And the terrors and joys in her bosom which swell, Are too mighty for nature to bear ! " [Auonymous. GLEN AEA. ! heard you yon pibroch sound sad in the gale, Where a band cometh slowly with weeping and wail ? 'T is the chief of Glenara laments for his dear ; And her sire and her people are called to her bier. Glenara came first, with the mourners and shroud ; Her kinsmen they followed, but mourned not aloud ; Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around ; They marched all iu silence, — they looked to the ground. 130 TrtHE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. In silence they passed over mountain and moor. To a heath where the oak-tree grew lonely and hoar : — *'Kow here let us place the gray-stone of her cairn ; — Why speak ye no word ? " said Glenara the stern. ** And tell me, I charge you, ye clan of my spouse, Why fold ye your mantles, why cloud ye your brows ? " So spake the rude chieftain : no answer is made. But each mantle, unfolding, a dagger displayed. *'I dreamed of my lady, I dreamed of her shroud," Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathful and loud ; ** And empty that shroud and that coffin did seem : Glenara ! Glenara ! now read me my dream ! " ! pale grew the cheek of that chieftain, I ween ! When the shroud was unclosed, and no body was seen : Then a voice from the kinsmen spoke louder in scorn, — 'Twas the youth that had loved the fair Ellen of Lorn: — ** I dreamed of my lady, I dreamed of her grief, 1 dreamed that her lord was a barbarous chief; On the rock of the ocean fair Ellen did seem : Glenara ! Glenara ! now read me my dream ! " In dust low the traitor has knelt to the ground. And the desert revealed where his lady was found: From a rock of the ocean that beauty is borne : Now joy to the house of fair Ellen of Lorn. [CampbeU. C A S ABI ANC A. "Young Casablanca, a boy about thirteen years old, son to the admiral of the Orient, remained at his post (in the battle of the Nile) after the ship had taken fire, and all the guns had been abandoned, and perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the flames had reached the powder." - The boy stood on the burning deck. Whence all but him had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. PHKS^ THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 131 Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud though childlike form. The flames rolled on, — he would not go. Without his father's word ; That father, faint in death below. His voice no longer heard. He called aloud : — " Say, fjither, say If yet my task is done?" He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. "Speak, father!" once again he cried, If I may yet be gone J And" — but the booming shots replied. And fast the flames rolled on. Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair, And looked from that lone post of death. In still, yet brave despair. And shouted but once more aloud, " My father, must I stay ? " While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud. The wreathing fires made way. They wrapped the' ship in splendor wild, They caught the flag on high, They streamed above the gallant child. Like banners in the sky. There came a burst of thunder sound, — The boy, — oh ! where was he? Ask of the winds that far around With fragments streAved the sea, — 132 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part, — But the noblest thing that perished there. Was that young faithful heart. [Mrs.Hemana. THE SONa OF CONSTANCE. Where shall the lover rest, Whom the fates sever. From his true maiden's breast, Parted forever ? Where through groves deep and higb Sounds the far billow. Where early violets die, Under the willow, Soft shall be his pillow. There, through the summer day. Cool streams are laving ; There, while the tempests sway. Scarce are bouglis waving ; There thy rest shalt thou take. Parted forever ; Never aoain to wake, — Never, oh, never ! Where shall the traitor rest. He the deceiver, Who could win maiden's breast, Ruin and leave her? In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying. Where mingles war's ratlle With groans of the dying. There shall he be lying. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 133 Her wing shall the raven flap O'er the false-hearted ; His warm blood the wolf shall lap Ere life be parted. Shame and dishonor sit By his grave ever : Blessings shall hallow it Never ! oh, never ! [Soott. THE DESTEUCTIOX OF SENNACHERIB. The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, ^ And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold ; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea. When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green. That host with their banners at sunset were seen ; Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown. That' host on the morrow lay withered and strown. For the angel of death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in tlie face of the foe as he passed ; And the eyes of the sleeper waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and forever were still ! And there lay the steed Avith his nostrils all wide. But through them there rolled not the breath of his pride. And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf. And cold as the spray on the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider, distorted and pale. With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail ; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. 134 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword. Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord. [Byron. THE BATTLE OF BUSACO. Beyond Busaco's mountains dun When far had rolled the sultry sun. And night her pall of gloom had thrown On nature's still convexity ; High on the heath our tents were spread. The cold turf was our cheerless bed. And o'er the hero's dew-chilled head The banners flapped incessantly. The loud war-trumpet woke the morn, — The quiveiing drum, the pealing horn, — From rank to i-ank the cry is borne, * 'Arouse for death or victory ! '* The orb of day, in crimson dye. Began to mount the morning sky ; Then, what a scene for warrior's eye Hung on the bold declivity ! The serried bayonets glittering stood. Like icicles on hills of blood ; An aerial stream, a silver wood. Reeled in the flickering canopy. Like waves of ocean rolliiTg fast. Or thunder-cloud before the blast, Massena's legions, stern and vast. Hushed to the dreadful revelry. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 135 The pause is o'er : the fatal shock A thousand thousand thunders woke ; The air grows thick ; the mountains rock ; Red ruin rides triumphantly. Light rolled the war-cloud to the sky. In phantom towers and columns high. But dark and dense their bases lie Prone on the battle's boundary. The thistle waved her bonnet blue. The harp her wildest war-notes threw. The red rose gained a fresher hue, Busaco, in thy heraldry. Hail, gallant brothers ! Woe befall The foe that braves thy triple wall ! — Thy sons, wretched Portugal ! Roused at their feats of chivalry. [Anonymoua. PULASKI'S BANNER. "The standard of Count Pulaski, the noble Pole, who fell in the attack on Savannah, during the American Revolution, was of ci-imson silk, embroidered by the Moravian nuns of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.'' When the dying flame of day Through the chancel shot its ray, Far the glimmering tapers shed Faint light on the cowled head, And the censer burnino- swuno-. Where before the altar huno- o That round banner, which, with prayer, Had been consecrated there ; And the nuns' sweet hymn was heard the while Sung low in the deep mysterious aisle. 136 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. " Take thy banner. May it wave Proudly o'er the good and brave, When the battle's distant wail Breaks the sabbath of our vale, When the clarion's music thrills To the hearts of these lone hills. When the spear in conflict shakes, And the strong lance shivering breaks. ** Take thy banner ; and beneath The war-cloud's encircling wreath. Guard it till our homes are free, — Guard it, — God will prosper thee ! In the dark and trying hour. In the breaking forth of power. In the rush of steeds and men. His right hand will shield thee then. ** Take thy banner. But when night Closes round the ghastly fight. If the vanquished warrior bow. Spare him ; by our holy vow. By our prayers and many tears. By the mercy that endears, Spare him ; he our love hath shared. Spare him, — as thou wouldst be spared. ** Take thy banner ; and if e'er Thou shouldst press the soldier's bier. And the muffled drum should beat To the tread of mournful feet, Then this crimson flag shall be Martial cloak and shroud for thee ! " And the warrior took that banner proud, And it was his martial cloak and shroud. [Anonymoos. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER, 137 GINE VRA. She was an only child, her name Ginevra, The joy, the pride of an indulgent father; And in her fifteenth year became a bride, Marrying an only son, Francisco Doria, Her playmate from her birth, and her first love. She was all gentleness, all gayety, Her pranks the favorite theme of every tongue. But now the day was come, the day, the hour ; Now frowning, smiling for the hundreth time, Tiie nurse, that ancient lady, preached decorum; And in the luster of her youth she gave Her hand, with her heart in it, to Francisco. Great was the joy ; but at the nuptial feast. When all sat down, the bride herself was wanting. Nor was she to be found ! Her father cried, 'T is but to make a trial of our love ! '* And filled his glass to all ; but his hand shook. And soon from guest to guest the panic spread. 'T was but that instant she had left Francisco, Laughing and looking back and flying still. Her ivory tooth imprinted on his finger ; But, now, alas ! slie was not to be found ; Nor from that hour could anything be guessed, But that she was not ! Weary of his life, Francisco flew to Venice, and embarking, Flung it away in battle with the Turk. The fatlier lived, and long might you have seen An old man wandering as if in quest of something, — Something he could not find, he knew not what. When he was gone, the house remained awhile Silent and tenantless, — then went to strangers. Full fifty years were past, and all forgotten, 12 138 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKEE. When on an idle day, a day of search, 'Mid the old lumber in the gallery. That moldering chest was noticed, and 'twas said By one as young-, as thoughtless as Ginevra, ** Why not remove it from its lurking-place ? '* 'Twas done as soon as said, but on the way It burst, it fell ; and lo ! a skeleton, With here and there a pearl, an emerald stone, A golden clasp, clasping a shred of gold. All else had perished, — save a wedding ring And a small seal, her mother's legacy. Engraven with a name, the name of both, ** Ginevra.** There then she had found a grave ! Within that chest had she concealed herself. Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy. When a spring lock that lay in ambush there, Fastened her down forever ! [Eogenu HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE. But meanwhile axe and lever Have manfully been plied. And now the bridge hangs tottering Above the boiling tide. ** Come back, come back, Hoialius ! " Loud cried the Fathers all : "Back, Lartius ! back, Herminius ! Back, ere the ruin fall ! " Back darted Spurius Lartius ; Herminius darted back : And, as they passed, beneath their feet They felt the timbers crack. THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 139 But when they turned their faces, And on the farther shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, They would have crossed once more. But with a crash like thunder Fell every loosened beam, And, like a dam, the mighty wreck Lay right athwart the stream : And a long shout of triumph Rose from the walls of Rome, As to the highest turret-tops Was splashed the yellow foam. And, like a horse unbroken When first he feels the rein. The furious river struggled hard, h And tossed his tawny mane : And burst the curb, and bounded, Rejoicing to be free ; And whirling down, in fierce career. Battlement, and plank, and pier, Rushed headlono- to the sea. o Alone stood brave Horatius, But constant still in mind ; Thrice thirty thousand foes before. And the broad flood behind. *' Down with him!" cried false Sextus, With a smile on his pale face. ^'Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena, "Now yield thee to our grace." Round turned he, as not deigning Those craven ranks to see ; Naught spake he to Lars Porsena, To Sextus naught spake he ; 140 THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. But he saw on Palatinus The white porch of his home ; And he spake to the noble river That rolls by the towers of Rome : **0 ! Tiber! father Tiber ! To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms. Take thou in charge this day ! " So he spake, and speaking sheathed The good sword by his side. And, with his harness on his back, Plunoed headlono^ in the tide. 'No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank ; But friends and foes, in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes. Stood gazing where he sank ; And when above the surges They saw his crest appear. All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer. But fiercely ran the current. Swollen high by months of rain : And fast his blood was flowing ; And he was sore in pain. And heavy with his armor, And spent with changing blows : And oft they thought him sinking. But still again he rose. Never, I ween, did swimmer, In such an evil case, Struggle through such a raging flood Safe to the landing place : THE HIGH SCHOOL SPEAKER. 141 But his limbs were borne up bravely By the brave heart within, And our good father Tiber ; Bare bravely up his chin. ** Curses on him!" quoth false Sextus ; **Will not the villain drown? But for this stay, ere close of day We should have sacked the town!'* " Heaven help him ! " quoth Lars Porsena, *'And bring him safe to shore ; For such a gallant feat of arms Was never seen before.'* And now he feels the bottom ; Now on dry earth he stands : Now round him throng the Fathers To press his gory hands : And now with shouts and clapping, And noise of weeping loud, He enters through the River Gate, Borne by the joyous crowd. [MswauUj. A ROMAN BATTLE. Right glad were all the Romans Wlio, in that hour of dread, Against great odds bare up the war Around Valerius dead, When from the south, the cheerin