1*0 "5 . ... A^ , -f -P ^ %_ +± c£* » ~ RHETORICAL READER; CONSISTING OF INSTRUCTIONS FOR REGULATING THE VOICE, WITH A RHETORICAL NOTATION, Il^LUSTHATIiVg INFLECTION, EMPHASIS, AND MODULATION; AND A COURSE OF RHETORICAL EXERCISES. DESIGNED FOR THE USE OF ACADEMIES AND HIG H- SCHOOLS. BY EBENEZER PORTER, D. D. Late President of the Theological Seminary, Andover. One Hundredth. Edition, with, an Appendix. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY DAYTON & SAXTON, SCHOOL BOOK PUBLISHERS, Corner of Pulton and Nassau streets. Allen, Morrill & Wardwell, Printers, Andover. 1841. p^s Entered, According to the Act of Congress, in the year 1835^ by FLAGG & GOULD In the Clerk's office of the District Court of Massachusetts "J*4* •* MicL STEREOTYPED 1 Y F. P. KIT-LEY, PREFACE. Though for many years after I began to investigate the principles of rhetorical delivery, I had no intention of writing any thing on the subject for publication, I was at last drawn into this measure, gradually and almost unavoidably. The bad habits in elocution, acquired by many educated young men, and' con armed, with little regard to consequences, as they passed from one stage of education to another, it was easy to see mast become at once equally conspicuous and injurious, so soon as they should pass from academical life into a public profession in which good speaking is a prime in- strument of usefulness. The last Seminary too which had them m charge, would, by a misapprehension not very un- natural, be made responsible, not merely for its own propor- tion, out for the whole of these defects. The only remedy for habits thus firmly established, obviously must lie in a patient, elementary process, adapted to form new habits. After a sufficient experiment to satisfy me that Walker's elements, as a text book, could not answer this purpose, I prepared a course of Lectures on the subject. One of these, "on Vocal Inflections," I consented to print, at the request and for the use of the Theological Students, to whom it had been read ; but without any intention that it should be pub- lished. The pamphlet, however, went abroad, and led to applications from respectable gentlemen, connected with col leges and other literary institutions, that I would prepare a book of the same description, to be used in this department of a liberal education. Accordingly I did prepare the " Anal- ysis of Rhetorical Delivery." The preparation of that work, my own use of it as a Teacher, and the testimony of others, who had used it, con- V PREFACE. vinced me, soon after its publication, that the chief princi pies it contains may be understood and applied by pupils much younger than those I had originally contemplated. Teachers of Academies and High Schools, who professed to have derived much assistance from the Analysis, urged me to prepare a cheaper book, on the same plan, adapted to the use of their pupils. This I promised to do, should health and engagements permit ; but the execution has been delayed, as involving a sacrifice of the time which I earnestly wished to devote to the more appropriate and sacred duties of my of- fice ; and had not one branch of these duties rendered me necessarily familiar with the general subject of this volume, the purpose must have been relinquished. I have been the more cheerful, however, in this under- taking, from a full conviction that whatever is accomplished on this subject, in classical schools, is a clear gain to profes- sional education for the pulpit. To no possible case, more than to this, is the maxim applicable, " Prevention is easier than cure." Faults which almost defy correction, might easily have been avoided by skill and pains in forming the early habits. I am aware that there is already an ample supply of books, which furnish excellent reading lessons, without professing to give any instruction in the art of reading. But the want of an elementary book, for common use, in which the principles of this art should be laid down, with Rhetorical Exercises, se»ected expressly to illustrate these principles, has been ex- tensively felt as a great deficiency. The Rhetorical Read- er is intended to supply this deficiency. The first third of its matter, is an abridgement of the Analysis, though with new discussion and elucidation of some important principles which will be found chiefly under the articles, Reading, — Emphatic Inflection, — Quantity, — and Compass of Voice. In respect to about two thirds of its contents, the book is new; including the original matter just mentioned, and a PREFACE. V new selection of exercises for Part II. This selection has been made with much care and from an extensive range of writers, British and American. In making it, regard has been paid, first to the moral sentiment of the pieces, as suit- ed to make a safe and useful impression on the young ; next to that rhetorical execution which may elevate their taste ; and finally, to such variety and vivacity, in the subjects and kinds of composition, as may sustain a undiminished inter est throughout. To attain brevity in each Exercise, the connexion of the writer has sometimes been broken by omissions longer or shorter, without notice ; the mention of which fact in this manner, I hope may be sufficient, without further apology. A word of explanation is necessary on another point. It was my intention to include in the Exercises, Part II. a greater proportion of extracts from the Bible, than I have done in Part I. ; both because I think it furnishes many of the best lessons for rhetorical reading; and because the book which, more than all others, is adapted to promote the sanctiflcation and salvation of the young, has been too much neglected in all departments of education. But as I wished to make this selection, not for the young merely, but also with a special view to those who are called to read the Bible as heads of families, or still more publicly, as preachers of the gospel, sufficient room for it could not be found in the present volume. I therefure concluded to defer this part of my plan, with the hope that I may compile a separate collection of Biblical Exercises, of perhaps 150 pages, to which a rhetorical notation will be applied, and which may be a proper sequel both to the Analysis, and Rhetorical Reader. Should this little book be found useful in advancing the interests of Christian Education, the best wishes of its author will be answered. E. PORTER. Theological Seminary, Andover, May 1831. 1* REMARKS TO TEACHERS. To those who may use this book, I have thought it proper t: make the following preparatory suggestions. ). In a large number of those who are to be taught read- ing and speaking, the first difficulty to be encountered arises from bad habits previously contracted. The most ready way to overcome these, is to go directly into the analysis of vocal sounds, as they occur in conversation. But to change a settled habit, even in trifles, often requires perseverance for a long time; of course it is not the work of a moment, to transform a heavy, uniform movement of voice, into one that is easy, discriminating, and forcible. This is to be accom- plished, not by a few irresolute, partial attempts, but by a steadiness of purpose, and of effort, corresponding with the importance of the end to be achieved. Nor should it seem strange if, in this process of transformation, the subject of it should at first, appear somewhat artificial and constrained in manner. More or less of this inconvenience is unavoidable, m all important changes of habit. The young pupil in chirography'never can become an elegant penman, till his bad habit of holding tha pen is broken up ; though for a time the change may have made him write worse than before. In respect to Elocution, as we" 1 as every othei art, the case may be in some measure similar. But let the new manner become so familiar, as to have in its favor the advan- tages of habit, and the difficulty ceases. 2. The pupil should learn the distinction of inflections, by reading the familiar examples under one rule, occasionahy turning to the Exercises, when more examples are necessary ; and the Teacher's voice should set him right Avhenever he makes a mistake. In the same manner, he should go through ail the rules successively. If he acquires the habit of giving too great or too little extent to his slides of voice, he should be carefully corrected, according to the sugges- tions given, p. 27 and 110. — After getting the command of the voice, the groat point to be steadily kept in view, is to apply the principles of emphasis and inflection, just as nature DIRECTIONS TO TEACHERS. VII and sentiment demand. In respect to those principles of modulation, in which the power of the voice so essentially consists, we should always remember too, that, as no theory of the passions can teach one to be pathetic, so no descrip- tion that can be given of the inflection, emphasis, and tones, which accompany emotion, can impart this emotion, or be a substitute for it. No adequate description indeed can De given of the nameless and ever varying shades of expression, which real pathos gives to the voice. Precepts here are only subsidiary helps to genius and sensibility. 3. Before any example or exercise is read to the Teacher, it should be studied by the pupil. At the time of reading, he should generally go through, without interruption ; and then the teacher should explain any fault, and correct it by the example of his own voice, requiring the parts to be repeated. It would be useful often to inquire why such a modification of voice occurs, in such a place, and how a change of struc- ture would vary the inflection, stress, &c. ; in other words to accustom the pupil to paraphrase the meaning conveyed by different expressions of voice ; as in the example p. 32 at the close of Rule IV. and p. 43, bottom. When the exam- ples are short, as in all the former part of the work, reference may easily be made to any sentence ; and in the long exam- ples, the lines are numbered, on the left hand of the page, to facilitate the reference, after a passage has been read. If an Exercise is read by a class in turn, it would be useful, at least occasionally, to call on two or more of the number to remark on the manner of the reader, proposing corrections, with reasons, before the remarks of the teacher are made. This will render them vigilant and intelligent, in the constant, practical application of theoretic principles; thus leading them to regard a proper management of voice as both an oyrt and a science. 4. When any portion of the Exercises is about to be committed to memory for declamation, the pupil should first study the sentiment carefully, entering as far as possible, into the spirit of the author ; then transcribe it in a fair hand; then mark with pencil, the inflections, emphasis, &c. required on different words ; — then read it rhetorically to his Teacher, changing his pencil marks as the case may require ; and then commit it to memory perfectly, before it is spoken ; as any labor of recollection is certainly fatal to freedom, and variety, and force in speaking. In general it were well that the same VIII DIRECTIONS TO TEACHERS. piece should be subsequently once or more repeated, with a view to adopt the suggestions of the Instructor. For the pur- pose of improvement in elocution, a piece- of four or five minutes, is better than one of fifteen; and more advance may be made, in managing the voice and countenance, by speak- ing several times, a short speech, though an old one, (if it is done with due care each time to correct what was amiss,) than in speaking many long pieces, however spirited or new, which are but half committed, and in the delivery of which all scope of feeling and adaptation of manner, are frustrated by labor of memory. The attempt to speak with this indo- lent, halting preparation, is in aF respects worse than nothing. KEY OF RHETORICAL NOTATION. Key of Inflection. - denotes monotone. ' rising inflection. falling inflection ~ circumflex. Key of Modulation. (°) h^h. (°°) high and loud. o ) ]o ^- DO ) low and loud. • • ) slow. = ) quick. — ) plaintive. || ) rhetorical pause. <) increase. CONTENTS. Paga. CHAP. I. Reading : its connexion with good education 13" Grammatical reading 21 Rhetorical reading 21 CHAP. II. Articulation 22 Causes of defective articulation 22 Difficulty of many consonant sounds 23 Immediate succession of similar sounds 24 Influence of accent 25 Tendency to slide over unaccented vowels 25 Cautions 26 •JHAP. III. Inflections 27 Description of Inflections 27 Rule I. Influence of disjunctive or on Inflection 29 Rule II. Of the Direct Question and its Answer 29 Rule III. Of Negation opposed to Affirmation , . . . 30 Rule IV. Rising Inflection. — Of the Pause of Suspension... 31 Rule V. Of the influence of Tender Emotion on the voice. . 32 Rule VI. Of the Penultimate Pause 33 Falling Inflection 33 Rule VII. Of the indirect Question and its Answer.. 33 Rule VIII. The language of Authority.— Of surprise, &c 34 Rule IX. Emphatic succession of particulars 35 Rule X. Emphatic Repetition 36 Rule XI. Final Pause 36 Rule XII. The Circumflex 37 CHAP. IV. Accent 38 CHAP. V. Emphasis 39 Sect. 1. Emphatic Stress 39 Absolute emphatic Stress 41 Antithetic or Relative Emphatic Stress 42 Sect. 2. Emphatic Inflection 43 Emphatic Clause 45 Double Emphasis * 46 CHAP. VI. Modulation 47 Sect. 1. Faults of Modulation 47 Monotony 47 Mechanical Variety 18 Sect. 2. Remedies 48 The spirit of Emphasis to be cultivated 48 A habit of discrimination as to Tones and Inflection 51 Sect. 3. Pitch of voice 51 Sect. 4. Quantity 52 Rotundity and Fulness 52 Loudness 54 Time 54 Strength of voice depends on good organs of) r. speech, &c $ Directions for preserving and strengthening them 54 Rate of utterance 56 X CONTENTS. Page Sect. 5. Compass of Voice 50 Sect. G. Rhetorical Pause 58 Sect. 7. Transition GO Sect. 8. Expression Gl Sect. 9. Rhetorical Dialogue 62 Sect. 10. The Reading of Poetry 64 , CHAP. VII. Gesture G7 Expression of countenance ' G7 Attitude 68 Faults of Rhetorical Action G8 Gesture may want appropriateness and discrimi- ) rr> nation ' \ May be too constant, or violent, or complex, or i -* uniform ) ' Mechanical variety 72 Use of right hand and left 73 EXERCISES. PART I. Preparatory Remarks 76 EXERCISES ON ARTICULATION. Exercise 1. ...- 78 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. Exercise 2. Disjunctive or 78 — 3. Direct Gluestion, &c 79 Conjunctive or 81 — 4. Negation opposed to affirmation 81 Comparison and contrast 82 5. Pause of Suspension 84 6. Tender Emotion 88 7. Indirect Gluestion, &c 90 8. Language of Authority, Surprise, &c 92 9. Emphatic Succession, &c 98 10. Emphatic Repetition 99 EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. Exercise 11 — 17. Absolute and Relative stress, and Emphatic > im . Inflection - \ 1U1 18. Difference between common and Intensive Inflection J 10 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. Exercise 19. Compass of voice Ill Transition 116 20. The power of Eloquence 116 21. Hohenlinden 118 22. Baule of Waterloo 119 23. Negro's Complaint 100 24. Marco Bozzaris 122 25. Extract from Paradise Lost 123 CONTENTS. XI Page Expression 12 r> Exercise 26. Judah's Speech to Joseph 1*25 27. Joseph disclosing himself 126 28. Death of a friend 127 29. Burial of Sir John Moore . . . • 128 30. Eve lamenting the loss of Paradise 129 31. Soliloquy of Hamlet's Uncle 129 Rhetorical Dialogue 130 32. Examples from the Bible 130 EXERCISES. PART II. Exercise 33. Character of Columbus Irving. 136 34. The Victim Philadelphia Casket. 138 35. Conflagration at Rome of an Amphitheatre Croly. 138 36. The African Chief Bryant. 140 37. Riches of a poor Barber Edinburgh paper. 142 38. Burning of the Fame N. Y. Atlas. 144 39. Hour of Prayer Mrs. Hemans. 147 . 40. My Mother's Grave Anonym. 148 41. A Tale of Waterloo Anonym. 150 42. The righteous never forsaken New- York Spectator. 152 43. To Printers . . . . Fuher Ames. 154 44. Washington PUrpoi.nl. 156 45. Miserable case of a Weaver BelVs Messenger. 157 46. Tomb of Washington 159 47. Destruction of the Temple at Jerusalem by fire Millman. 162 48. The Charnel Ship Charleston Courier. 165 49. Life — a Spanish Poem Edinburgh Review. 167 50. Death and the Drunkard 168 51. The Plague in London Rothelan. 170 52. The Battle of Borodino 172 53. Shipwreck Fredericksburgh Arena. 173 54. The Bucket — a Cold water Song Woodworth 175 55. Anecdote of Judge Marshal Winchester Republican. 176 56. The first and last Ticket ; .Manuscript of a Criminal. 178 57. Death at the Toilet From the Diary of a Physician. 184 58. Sabbath Schools ' Frelinghuysen. 186 59. The folly and wickedness of War Knox. 188 60. The Warrior Harbinger of Peace. 190 6i. Death of Ashmun Mrs. Sigourney. 191 6^. Love of Applause Hawes. 192 63. Christian Integrity Haives. 193 64. Watch J. Mason Good. 194 65. New social order in America Douglas. 196 6G. Voluntary Association Douglas. 197 67. Bible Societies -. Douglas. 198 68. Christ's entrv into Jerusalem Cunningham. 199 69. Evening Hymn Monthly Vis. 200 70. Universal Peace Chalmers. 201 71. The Elder's Death Bed Prof. Wilson. 202 72. Bensvoknce of God , .- 'Chalmers, 207 Xll CONTENTS. Exercise Pasre 73. Death of Princess Charlotte Robert Hall. 208 74. Remarkable preservation from death at Sea... Prof. Wilson. 210 75. The Bible the best Classic Grimke. 214 76. Fathers of New England Spraguc. 215 77. Duty of Literary men to their Country . Grimke. 218 78. Eulogy on Adams and Jefferson Wirt. 219 79. The Greek Revolution Webster. 221 80. Triumph of the Gospel Phillip. 223 81. Duties and Prospects of New England Pres. Quincy. 225 82. The Sabbath School Teacher Jamez. 227 83. Motives of the Gospel Dwight. 228 84. Character of Richard Reynolds Thorpe. 230 85. Address of the Bible Society— 1816 Mason. 231 86. Roman Soldier; — Last days of Herculaneum Atherstone. 232 87. The Orphan Boy Mrs. Opie. 235 88. Christian Consolation 236 89. Cruelty to Animals Cowper. 237 90. Christianity Mason. 238 91. Character of Mrs. Graham Mason.. 240 92. Living to God Griffin. 241 93. Plea for Africa Griffin. 243 94. Abolition of the Slave Trade Christian Obs. 245 95. Eliza Darwin. 246 96. Character of Mr. Brougham... 248 97. Character of Mr. "VVil be r force 250 98. Eulogium on Mr. Fox Sheridan. 251 99. Death of Sheridan Byron. 252 100. The last family of Eastern Greenland Montgomery. 254 101. The City and the Country M Donnough. 255 102. Summary Punishment Scott. 257 103. On the receipt of his Mother's Picture Cowper. 258 104. Extract from " The Grave" Montgomery. 259 105. Defence of Johnson Cnrran. 260 i06. Taking of Warsaw Campbell. 262 107. Lord Chatham Butler. 263 108. Mr. Fox, and Mr. Pitt Butler. 265 109. Death of Lord Chatham Percy. 266 110. Lord Mansfield Peicy. 268 111. Providential Distinctions Pollok. 270 1 12. Eloquence of Bossuet Butler. 271 1 13. Eloquence of Bourdaloue Butler. 273 J 14. Eloquence of Bridaine Butler. 275 J 15. Eloquence of Whitefield Gillies. 276 J 16. Satan's Lamentation Milton. 278 1 17. Eloquence of Sheridan 280 1 18. Spirit of the American Revolution J. Quincy, Jr. 282 1 19. America Philips. 284 120. Patriotism of 1775 P. Henry, 286 121. The discontented Pendulum Jane Taylor. 289 122. Valedictory Hymn N. Adorns. 292 123. Scene from Pizarro Kotzobuc. 293 124. God Derzhanir. 297 125. The Dead Sea Croly. 299 126. New Missionary Hymn 5. F. Smith. 300 Appendix 301 THE RHETORICAL READER. CHAPTER L READING. ITS CONNEXION WITH GOOD EDUCATION. The art of reading well is indispensable to one who ex- nects to be a public speaker; because the principles on which it depends are the same as those which belong to rhetorical delivery in general, and because nearly all bad speakers were prepared to be so, by early mismanagement of the voice in reading. But the subject is one of common interest to all, who aim at a good education. Every intelligent father, who would have his son or daughter qualified to hold a respect- able rank in well-bred society, will regard it as among the very first of polite accomplishments, that they should be able to read well. But beyond this, the talent may be ap- plied to many important purposes of business, of rational entertainment, and cf religious duty. Of the multitudes who are not called to speak in public, including the whole of one sex, and all but comparatively a few of the other, there is no one to whom the ability to read in a graceful and impressive manner, may not be of great value. In this country, then, where the advantages of education are open to all, and where it is a primary object with parents of all classes, to have their children well instructed, it woui i seem reasonable to presume mat nearly all our youth, cf both sexes, must be good readers. Yet the number who ^an % 14 READING. properly be so called, is comparatively small. No defect of vocal organs, nor of intelligence and sensibility, which may be supposed to exist among the pupils of our schools, is suf- ficient to account for the wretched habits of reading, which are so prevalent. The fact must be ascribed to causes more unquestionable and radical in their operation; and these causes, in my opinion, are to be found chiefly, in the inade- quate views of the subject, entertained by those to whom the interests of early education are committed. Notwithstanding the manifest advances in public sen- timent respecting this matter, which we have witnessed withm a few years, there are still many Teachers, and pub- lishers of reading lessons, who maintain that no precepts as to management of voice can be useful to the young; but that every thing of this sort tends to embarrass rather than aid the attainment of a good elocution. But if it is enough to put a book into the hands of a pupil, and require him to read, without giving him any instructions how to read, then I ask, among the past generations, who have been treated just in this manner, why have not all, or nearly all, become good readers % Teachers have been sufficiently sparing of rules ; and if a boy was only careful to speak his words distinctly and fluently, and " mind the stops," nothing more was required. Elementary books too have been, till of late, nearly silent as to precepts for regulating the manner in reading. Some of these did formerly give the three follow ing directions ; — that the parenthesis requires a quick ario weak pronunciation ; — that the voice should be raised at tht end of a question; — and dropped into a cadence, at the end of all other sentences. The first direction, as to the paren- thesis, is proper in all cases. The second is proper in all questions answered by yes or no, and improper in all others. Hence the teacher found the instincts of every child to rebel against the rule, in reading such questions as, — H Who art thou?" " Where is boasting then?" — and just so, as to READING. 15 the last rule, respecting cadency when a sentence ends with an antithetic, negative clause; as, " You were paid to fight against Alexander, not to rail at him." But because very defective precepts are useless or per nicious, does it follow that this interesting subject must be left to accident; so that if any one K comes a good reader, it shall be only because it happens to be so? Then it will doubtless happen, in time to come, as it has in time past, that the number of good readers will be few, very few. In answer to this question, some who discard all theory in elocution, would probably say, — we would by no means leave the learner to chance : we would have him imitate his Tea c he r, who should be qualified to correct his faults of manner, by exemplifying himself what is right, and what is wrong, in any given case. Doubtless the Teacher should watch every opportunity to aid his pupil in this manner. But when he reads a sentence well, as an example to his pupil, is this done by accident? Is there no reason why his emphasis is laid on one word rather than another? — why it is strong or weak ? why his pauses are long or short .- — why he makes a difference between a parenthetic clause and another? — why his voice turns upward on one word, and downward on another ? — why he ends a sentence with a small cadence, or a great one, or with no cadence, as cases vary ? Is all this mere chance ? If so, the pupil may as well be left to chance without, as with a Teacher. If not ; — if the Teacher has a reason why he reads so, and not otherwise, cannot he tell that reason ? This is what com- mon sense requires of him, to teach hj precept and ex- ample both. Besides : — what if that Teacher reads badly, nimself; just because they who were his patterns, during the formation of his early habits, were oad readers ? Must we go on still at the same rate, and insist on it that the proper remedy for bad reading, is the imitation of bad ex- amples? Then we have no remedy. But common sense, 16 READIN . I say again, would combine practice with theory ; so that the Teacher, knowing the conformity between thought and vocal language, may not only express this conformity by his own voice, but explain it to his pupils. There are others, who would discard any systematic in- struction on this subject, and yet allow that one important direction ought to be given and incessantly repeated, namely, be natural. But what is it to be natural ? The pupil will understand, probably, that he is to read in the manner that is most easy to himself, or that gives him the least trouble ; that is, the manner to which he is accustomed. Bad as that manner may be, the direction has no tendency to mend it; because he supposes that any new manner would be unnatural to him. But you correct him again, and tell him to be -natural. The direction is just, is simple, is easily repeated ; but the infelicity is, that it has been repeated a thousand times,, without any practical advantage. You then become more particular, and tell him that, to be natural he must enter into the spirit of what he utters, and read it so as feeling requires. He tries again, and fails, because he attempts to do what feeling requires, without feeling ; and because he has no conception what it is in his voice that is wrong. You tell him perhaps, that he must drop his reading tone, and be natural; but he understands nothing what you mean ; and while his manner becomes more rapid or more loud, for this admonition, he goes on with his tone still. He is under the influence of an inveterate habit, which he acquired from being early accustomed to read that which he did not understand, and in which he felt no interest. To break up unseemly tones, thus deeply fixed by habit, every teacher of reading or speaking finds to be the first and hardest task in his employment. In general, the longer these habits have been cherished, the more stubborn they become ; and measures that might be sufficient to prevent READING 17 them, are by no means sufficient for their cure. To do what is right, with unperverted faculties, is ten times easier than to undo what is wrong. How often do we see men of fine understanding and delicate sensibility, who utter their thoughts in conversation, with all the varied intonations which sentiment requires : but the moment they come to read or speak in a formal manner, adopt a set of artificial tones utterly repugnant to the spirit of a just elocution. Shall we say that such men do not understand what they speak in public, as well as what they speak in conversation % Plainly the difference arises from a perverse habit, which prevails over them in one case, and not in the other. Many instances of this sort I have known, where a man has been fully sensible of something very w r rong in his 'ones, but has not been able to see exactly what the fault is; and after a few indefinite and unsuccessful efforts at amendment, has quietly concluded to go on in the old way. So he most conclude, so long as good sense and emotion are not an equal match for bad habits, without a knowledge of those elementary principles, by which the needed remedy is to be applied. These habits he acquired in chjlcmood, just as he learned to speak at all, or to speak English rather than French, — by imitation. His tones both of passion and of articulation, are derived from an instinctive correspond- ence between the ear and voice. If he had been born deaf, he would have possessed neither. Now in what way shall he break up his bad habits, without so much attention to the analysis of speaking sounds, that he can in some good degree distinguish those which differ, and imitate those winch he would wish to adopt or avoid? How shall he correct a tone, while he cannot understand why it needs correction, because he chooses to remain ignorant of the only language in w r hich the fault can possibly be described ? Let him study and accustom himself to apply a few element- ary principles, and then he may at least be able to un- 2* 18 *' READING. derstand what are the defects of his intonations. I do not say that this attainment may be made with equal facility, or to an equal extent, by all men. But to an important extent it may be made- by every one ; and that with a moderate share of the effort demanded by most other valuable acqui- sitions; I might say with one half the time and attention hat are requisite to attain skill in music. Should some still doubt whether any theory of vocal in- flections can be adopted, which shall not be perplexing and on the whole injurious, especially to the young, I answer that the same doubt may as well be extended to every de- partment of practical knowledge'. To think of the rules of syntax, every sentence we speak, or of the rules of ortho- graphy and style, every time we take up our pen to write, would indeed be perplexing. The remedy prescribed by common sense in all such cases, is, not to discard correct theories, but to make them so familiar as to govern our practice spontaneously, and without reflection. The benefit of analysis and precept is, to aid the teacher m making the pupil conscious of his own faults, as a pre- requisite to their correction. The object is to unfetter the soul, and set it free to act. In doing this a notation for the eye, designed to regulate the voice in a few obvious parti- culars, may be of much advantage: otherwise why shall we not dismiss punctuation too from books, and depend wholly on the teacher for pauses, as well as tones ? The reasonable prejudice w T hich some intelligent men have felt against any system of notation, arises from the preposterous extent to which it has been carried, by a few popular teachers, and especially by their humble imitators. A judicious medium is what we want. Five characters in music, and six vowels in writing, enter into an infinitude of combinations in melody and language. So the element- ary modi Nations of voice in speaking, are few, and easily understood; and to mark them, so far as distinction is use- READING. 19 ful, does not require a tenth part of the rules, which some have thought necessary. I have made these last remarks, "because, while I think it a mere prejudice, and a very mischievous one, to maintain that there are no elementary rules of good reading, there is another extreme, which would carry theoretic directions beyond all bounds of common sense and practical utility. 1 refer to the theory which maintains that, while musical notes are uttered without any slide, the sounds of articulate language are always spoken with a perceptible slide of the voice, either upward or downward. This, in my opinion, is carrying a useful, general theory to an improper extreme. In the notes of a tune, as given from a stringed instrument, or from the human voice, there certainly is no inflection. But no man of accurate ear will say that there is any neces- sary distinction between the notes sol, fa, as uttered in mu- sic, and the same sounds in speech, where they occur in examples like the following; u My soul, how lovely is the place," " Father of all, in every age, in every clime ador'd." Though it is possible to speak the open vowels, o and a, in the Italic syllables, with inflections, it is not requisite, nor natural ; and if any think it to be so, I must suppose that they have not been accustomed to distinguish betw r een a slide of the voice, and that transition of note to higher or lower, in which consecutive syllables are uttered. If how- ever, the position that every syllable has a slide, is held as an occult theory, it is harmless, and needs not a moment's discussion ; but if practical importance is attached to it, so that the learner must try to distinguish ichat slide he must give to each syllable, in the simplest language, the theory becomes positively injurious in influence. It frustrates ail just discrimination, by aiming at that which is needless and endless in minuteness. It operates much as it would to re- quire, by the Italic character, or other notation, every word m a sentence to be spoken with emphatic force. 20 READING. Now the most general principle of a good elocution that can be laid down is ; the voice must conform to sentiment Where the thought is simple, and without emotion, as ; " No man may put off the law of God ;" to insist on any- thing like marked stress, or inflection is worse than useless. But call the pupil to read ;— " Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures :" — or " Arm, warriors i Arm for fight /" and it is quite another case. Here stress and inflection are needed on the emphatic words. Why ? — Because sense and emotion require it. Let these few words be right, and no matter for the rest ; — they will be right, or nearly so, of course. But if you require the pupil to give stress and in- flection to all the Words, you teach him to sacrifice the sense, and aim at conformity to some arbitrary standard ot excellence, which he may imagine that he understands, but which will ruin all significant variety in his intonations. There is one great law of mind, and of language, which Teachers of youth should well understand, namely, that emotion speaks with its own appropriate modes of expression. Where a sentence contains a simple thought, without emo- tion of any sort, it requires nothing but proper words, in grammatical order. No principle of rhetoric is concerned in forming such a sentence, and none in uttering it, except distinctness. But the moment that passion speaks, gram- mar is subordinate, and rhetoric becomes ascendant. A groan, a shriek of distress, thrills the heart, without the help of syntax; and the same principle exists as to all the lower degrees of passion, till we come down again to the mere province of words, and grammar. Now passion and discriminating sentiment demand an appropriate expression of voice, not in the ,mere utterance of words, but in the manner of uttering them. On this principle, rest all the laws of inflection, emphasis, &c. v/hich can be given to any valuable purpose. These laws, as I have said, are few; and can be stated and reduced to practice, with as much ease as any other laws of language. READING. 21 J shaL finish these general remarks, by laying down a plain distinction between the two sorts of reading, the gram- matical, and the rhetorical. Grammatical reading, as I have just intimated, respects merely the sense of what is read. When performed audibly, for the benefit of others, it is still only the same sort of process which one performs silently, for his own benefit, when he casts his eye along the page, to ascertain the meaning of its author. The chief purpose of the correct reader is to be intelligible ; and this requires an accurate perception of grammatical relation in the structure of sen- tences ; a due regard to accent and pauses, to strength oi voice, and clearness of utterance. This manner is generally adopted in reading plain, unimpassioned style. The cha- racter and purpose of a composition may be such, that it would be as preposterous to read it with tones of emotion, as it would to announce a proposition in grammar or geom- etry, in the language of metaphor. But though merely the correct manner, suits many purposes of reading, it is drv and inanimate, and is the lowest department in the province of delivery. Still the great majority, not to say of respect- able men, but of bookish men, go nothing beyond this in their attainments or attempts. Rhetorical reading has a higher object, and calls into action higher powers. It is not applicable to a composi- tion destitute of emotion, for it supposes feeling. It does not barely express the thoughts of an author, but expresses them with the force, variety, and beauty, which feeling demands. To this, latter sort of reading would I bend all my efforts in forming the habits of the young. To this, almost ex- clusive*y, would I apply precepts respecting management of the voice. And with a view to prevent the formation of bad habits, or to cure them before they become established, I would take off children, just so soon as they can read with 22 ARTICULATION. tolerable readiness, from lessons which belong to the gram- matical class, and put them upon those which contain some rhetorical principles. These lessons should, at first, be chiefly narrative ; or narrative and colloquial combined: — by which I mean, dialogue proper, or rhetorical dialogue; in w r hich the same voice must represent two speakers or more. CHAPTER II. ARTICULATION. It has been well said, that a good articulation is to the ear, what a fair hand -writing, or a fair type is to the eye. Who has not felt the perplexity of supplying a word, torn away by the seal of a letter ; or a dozen syllables of a book, in as many lines, cut off by the carelessness of a binder? The same inconvenience is felt from a similar omission in spoken language ; with this additional disad- vantage, that we are not at liberty to stop, and spell out the meaning by construction. A man of indistinct utterance reads this sentence ; " The magistrates ought to prove a declaration so publicly made." When I perceive that his habit is to strike only the accented syllable clearly, sliding over others, I do not know whethei it is meant, that they ougho to prove the declaration, or to approve it, or reprove it, — for in either case he would speak only the syllable prove. Nor do I know, whether the magistrates ought to do it, or the magistrate sought to do it. Defective articulation arises from bad organs, or bad habits, or sounds of difficult utterance. ARTICULATION. 23 Every one knows how the loss of a tooth, or a contusion on the lip, affects the formation of oral sounds. When there is an essential fault in the structure of the mouth; when the tongue is disproportionate in length or width, or sluggish in its movements ; or the palate is too high, or too low ; or the teeth badly set, or decayed, art may diminish, but cannot fully remove the difficulty. In nine cases out often, however, imperfect articulation comes not so much from bad organs, as from the abuse of good ones. The animal and intellectual temperament doubtless has some connexion with this subject. A sluggish action of the mind, imparts a correspondent character to the action of the vocal organs, and makes speech only a succession of indolent, half-formed sounds, more resembling the muttering of a dream, than the clear articulation, which we ought to expect in one who knows what he is saying. Excess of vivacity, on the other hand, or excess of sensibility, often produce a hasty, confused utterance. Delicacy speaks in a timid, feeble voice ; and the fault of indistinctness is often aggravated in a bashful child, by the indiscreet chidings of his teacher, designed to push him into greater speed in spelling out his early lessons ; while he has little fami- liarity with the form and sound, and less with the meaning of words. The way is now prepared to notice some of those dif- ficulties in articulation, which arise from the sounds to be spoken. The first and chief difficulty lies in the fact that arti- culation co?isists essentially in the consonant sounds, and that many of these are difficult of utterance. My limits do not allow me to illustrate this by a minute analysis of the elements of speech. It is evident to the slightest observation that the open vowels are uttered with ease and strength. On these, public criers swell their notes to so great a compass. On these too, the loudest notes of music are formed. Hence ^the great s*iJ] which is requisite to 24 ARTICULATION distinct articulation in music ; for the stream of voice, which flows so easily on the vowels and half vowels, is interrupted by the oc- currence of a harsh consonant; and not only the sound, but the breath, is entirely stopped by a mute. In^ singing, for example, any sydable which ends with p } k, d, or t, all the sound must be uttered on the preceding vowel ; for when the organs come to the proper position for speaking the mute, the voice instantly ceases. This explains what has sometimes been thought a mystery, that stammering persons find little difficulty in reading poetr) r , and none in singing;* whereas they step at once in speaking, when they come to certain con- sonants. Any one who would practically understand this subject, should recollect that the distinction between human speech, and the inarticulate sounds of brutes, lies not in the vowels, but in the conso- nants; and that in a defective utterance of these, bad articulation primarily consists. A second difficulty arises from the immediate succession of the same or similar sounds : as in the recurrence of the aspirates ; Up the Zugh hill he Aeaves a huge round stone. or Vhe collision of open vowels ; TI10' oft the ear the open vowels tire. But a greater difficulty still is occasioned by the im- mediate recurrence of the same consonant sound, without the intervention of a vowel or a pause. The following are examples; " For Christ's sake." "The hos^s stiU stood." " The battle las^s s^ill." The illustration will be more in- telligible from examples in which bad articulation affects the sense. Wastes and deserts ; — Waste sand deserts. To obtain either ; To obtain neither. Hij cry moved me ; — His crime moved me. He could pay nobody ; — he could pain nobody. Two successive sounds are to be formed here, with the organs m the same position; so that, without a pause between, only one of the single sounds is spoken; and the difficulty is much increased when sense or grammatical relation for- bids such a pause. * This is partly owing also to a deliberate, metrical movement. ARTICULATION. 25 A third difficulty arises from the influence of accent The importance which this stress attaches to syllables on which it falls, requires them to be spoken in a more full and deliberate manner tnan others. Hence, if the recur- red e of this stress is too close, it occasions heaviness in utterance ; if too remote, indistinctness. In the example ; And ten low words oft creep in one dull line, (he poet compels us, in spite of metrical harmony, to lay an accent on each syllable. But the remoteness of accent in other cases involves a greater difficulty still ; because the intervening syllables are liable to be spoken with a rapidity inconsistent with distinctness, especially if they abound with jarring conso- nants. Combinations of this kind we have in the words communicatively, authoritatively, terrestrial, reasonableness, disinterestedness. And the case is worse still where we preposterously throw r back the accent, so as to be followed by four or five syllables, as Walker directs in these words receptacle, 'peremptorily, accept ablcness. While these com- binations almost defy the best organs of speech, no one finds any difficulty in uttering words combined with a due proportion of liquids, and a happy arrangement of vowels and accents. Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the mam. A fourth difficulty arises from a tendency of the organs to slide over unaccented vowels. There is a large class oi words beginning with pre, and pro, in which this seldom fails to appear. In prevent, prevail, predict, a bad articu- lation sinks e of the first syllable so as to make pr-vent, pr-vail, pr-dict. The case is the same with o m proceed, profane, promote; spoken pr-ceed, &c. So e is confounded with short u in event, omit, &c. spoken uvvent, ummit. In the same manner u is transformed into e, as in povulous, 3 26 ARTICULATION. regular, singular, educate, &c. spoken pop-e-lous, reg-e-lar t ed-e-cate. A smart percussion of r>»e tongue, with a little rest on the consonant before u, so as to make it quite distinct, would remove the difficulty. The same sort of defect, it may be added, often appears in the:' distinct utterance of consonants ending syllal) es; thus in at-iempt, attention, ef-fect, of-fence, the consonant of the first syllable is suppressed. To the foregoing remarks, it may be proper to add three cautions. The first is, in aiming to acquire a distinct articulation, take care not to form one that is measured and mechanical. The child, in passing from his spelling manner, is ambitious to become a swift reader, and thus falls into a confusion of organs, that is to be cured only by re- tracing the steps which produced it. The remedy, however, is no better than the fault, if it runs into a scan-ning, pe-dan-tic for-mal-i-ty, giving undue stress to particles and unaccented syllables ; thus, " He is the man of all the world whom I rejoice to meet." In some parts of our country, there is a prevalent habit of sinking the sound of e or i, in words where English usage preserves it, as in rebel, chapel, Latin, — spoken reb'l, chap 1 1, LaVn. In other cases, where English usage suppresses the vowel, the same persons speak it with marked distinctness, or turn it into u; as ev'n, op'n, heav'n, pronounced ev-un, op-am, heav-un. It should, be remarked that vowels not under the accent, are often uttered slightly by good speakers, where affectation, by trying to give them prominence, runs into a very faulty pronunciation. Thus in at- tempting to distinguish e frorn^ in such words as vncked, gospel, many pronounce them wicked, gospel, wickwdnwss, &c. Unaccented vowels are often necessarily indistinct, e in wicked, having the same sound as i in it. So all the vowels, a, e, i, o, u, ?/, must often be spoken so as to have the sound of short u; as in scholar, master, satirist, . doctor, mart?/r, pronounced scholar, master, &c. The second caution is, — let the close of sentences be spoken clearly ; with Mini, lent strength, and on the proper pitch, to bring out the meaning completely. No part of a sentence is so important as the close, both in respect to sense and harmony. The" third caution is, — ascertain your own defects of articulation, by the aid of some friend, and then devote a short time statedly and daily, to correct them. Let the reader make a list of such words and combina- tions as he has found most difficult to his organs, and repeat them as a set exercise. If he has been accustomed to say om-nip-etent , pop-e- lous, pr-mote, pr-vent, let him learn to speak the unaccented vowels properly.* * On stammering and impediments, which fall under the head of ar- ticulation, the reader may find my views in the Analysis of Rhetorical Delivery. # INFLECTIONS. 27 CHAPTER III, INFLECTIONS. Description of Inflections. The absolute modifications of the voice in speaking are four; namely, monotone, rising inflection, falling inflection, and circumflex. The first may be marked to the eye by a horizontal line, thus, (-) the second thus, (') the third thus, (')the fourth thus, (-). The monotone is a sameness of sound on successive syl lables, which resembles that produced by repeated strokes on a bell. Unseemly as this is, where varied inflections are required, it more or less belongs to grave delivery, especially in elevated description, or where emotions of sublimity or reverence are expressed ; as ; — He rode upon a cherub and did fly. — I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it. The rising inflection turns the voice upward, or ends higher than it begins. It is heard invariably in the direct question; as, Wilt you go to-day ? The falling inflection turns the voice downwards, or ends lower than it begins. It is heard in the answer to a question ; as, No] I shall go to-morrow. As the whole doctrine of inflections depends on these two simple slides of- the voice, one more explanation seems necessary, as to the degree in which each is applied, under different circumstances. In most cases where the rising slide is used, it is only a gentle turn oi the voice upward, one or two notes. In cases of emotion, as in the spirited, direct question, the slide may pass through five or eight notes. The former may be. called the common rising inflection, the latter the intensive. Just the same distinction exists in the falling inflection. Tn the question, uttered with surprise, " Are you going ' io-ddy ?" the slide is intensive. But in the following case, it is com- mon, " as fame is but breath,, a,s riches a,re transitory, and, life itself is uncertain, so we should seek a better portion " To carry the rising siide in the latter case, as far as in the former, is a great fault, though not an uncommon one. 28 INFLECTIONS. The circumflex is a union of the two inflections, some- times on one syllable, and sometimes on several. It begins with the falling, and ends with the rising slide ; as, J may go to-morrow, though I cannot go to-day. " They tell us to be moderate; but they, they, are to revel in profusion." On the words marked in these examples, there is a significant twist- ing of the voice downwards, and then upwards, without which the sense is not expressed. Besides these absolute modifications of voice, there are others which may be called relative, and which may be classed under the four heads of "pitch, quantity, rate, and quality. These may be pre- sented thus ; Pit,, j gg •> Quantity. { g* « -Rate. \ gg* > Quality. { ^ As these relative modifications of voice assume almost an endless variety, according to sentiment and emotion in a speaker, they belong to the chapter on modulation. Classification of Inflections. In order to render the new classification which I have given intelligible, I have chosen examples chiefly from col- loquial language; because the tones of conversation ought to be the basis of delivery, and because these only are at once recognised by the ear. Being confoffned to nature, they are instinctively right ; so that scarcely a man in a million uses artificial tones in conversation. And this one fact, I remark in passing, furnishes a standing canon to the learner in elocution. In contending with any bad habit of voice, let him break up the sentence on which the difficulty- occurs, and throw it, if possible, into the colloquial form. Let him observe in himself and others, the turns of voice which occur in. speaking, familiarly and earnestly, on com- mon occasions. As the difficulty of the learner at first, is to distinguish the two chief inflections, and as the best method of doing this, is by compar- ing them together, the following classification begins with cases in which the two are statedly found in the same connexion; and then extends to ^ases in which they are used separately; the whole being marked in a continued series of rules, for convenient reference. INFLECTIONS. ' 29 Both Inflections together. Rule I. When the disjunctive or connects words 01 clauses, it has the rising inflection before, and the falling after it. EXAMPLES. Shall I come to you with a rod — or in love? The baptism of John, was it from heaven, — or of men 1 Will you go — or stay 1 Will you ride — or walk 1 Will you go to-day — or to-morrow? Did he travel for health, — or pleasure 1 Did he resemble his father, — or his mother ? Is this book yours, — or mine? Rule II. The direct question, or that which admits tht answer of yes or no, has the rising inflection, and the answei has the falling. EXAMPLES. Are they Hebrews'? So am I. Are they Israelites'? So am I. Are they the seed of Abraham 1 So am I. Are they ministers of Christ ? I am more. [Paul.] Did you not speak to it? My lord, I did. Hold you the watch to-night 1 We do, my lord. Arm'd, say you? Armed, my lord. From top to toe ? My lord, from head to foot. Then saw you not his face'? O yes, my lord. What, look'd he frowningly 1 A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Pale % Nay, very pale. — Shak. Hamlet, Note 1. If 1 wish to know whether my friend will go on a journey within two days, I say perhaps, u Will you go to-day, or to-morrow 7" He may answer, " yes,' --because my rising reflection on both words imptes that I used the or between them conjunctively. But if I had used it disjunctively, it must have had the rising slide before it. and the falling after ; and then the question is, not whether he will go within two days, but on which of the two; — thus, " Will you go to-day — or to-morrow ?" The whole question, in this case, cannot admit the answer yes or no, and of course cannot end with the rising slide. Note 2. When Exclamation becomes a question, it demands the rising slide ; as, " How, you say, are we to accomplish it? How ac- complish it ! Certainly not by fearing to attempt it." 3* 30 INFLECTIONS. Rule III. When negation is opposed to affirmation^ the former has the rising, and the latter the falling inflec- tion. EXAMPLES. I did not say a better soldier,— but an elder. Study not for amusement, — but for improvement. He was esteemed, not for wealth, — but for wisdom. He will not come to-day, — but to-morrow. He did not act wisely, but unwisely. He did not call me, — but you. He did not s&y pride, — but pride. Note 1. Negation alone, not opposed to affirmation, generally in- clines the vr-ice to the rising slide, but not always, as some respectable Teachers have maintained. " Thou shalt not kill ;" " Thou shalt not steal;" — are negative precepts, in which the falling slide mast be used; and the simple particle no, with the intensive falling slide, is one of the strongest monosyllables in the language. Note 2. The reader should be apprised here, that the falling slide, being often connected with strong emphasis, and beginning on a high and spirited note, is liable to be mistaken, by those little acquainted with the subject, for the rising slide. If one is in doubt which of the two he has employed, on a particular word, let him repeat botn to- gether, by forming a question, thus, " Did I say go, or go ?" or a ques- tion and answer, thus, " Will you go, — or stay? I shall go." " Will you ride, or walk ? I shall ride." Th:s will give the contrary slides on the same word. But as some may be unable still to distinguish the falling, confound- ing it, as just mentioned, with the rising inflection, or, on the other hand, w T ith the cadence; 1 observe that the difficulty lies in two things. One is; that the slide is not begun so high, and the other, that it is not carried through so many notes, as it ought to be. I explain this by a diagram, thus : Will you go to- ~> It is sufficiently exact to say, that in reading this properly the syllables without slide may be spoken on one key or monotone. From this key go slides upwards to its highest note, and from the same high note stay slides downwards to the key; and go does the same, in the answer to the question. In the second example, the case is entirely stimiiar. Bui ilz difficulty with the inexpert reader is, that he strikes the downward slide, not above the key, but on it, INFLECTIONS. 3i and then slides downward, just as in a cadence. The faulty manner may be represented thus : Will you go to- & or to- ^ I shall go to- *_ 0t »? % The other part of the difficulty, in distinguishing the falling inflec- tion from the opposite, arises from its want of sufficient extent. Sometimes indeed the voice is merely dropped to a low note, with- out any slide at all. The best remedy is. to take a sentence with some emphatic word, on which the intensive falling slide is proper, and protract that slide, in a drawling manner, from a high note to a low one. This will make its distinction from the rising slide very obvious. Rising Inflection. Rule IV. The pause of suspension, denoting that the sense is unfinished, requires the rising inflection. This rule embraces several particulars, more especially applying to sentences of the periodic structure, which con- sist of several members, but form no complete sense before the close. It is a first principle of articulate language, that in such a case, the voice should be kept suspended, to denote continuation of sense. The following are some of the cases to which the rule applies. 1. Sentences beginning toith a conditional particle or clause ; as, " If some of the branches be broken off, and thou, being a wild olive-tree, wert grafted in among them, and with them partakest of the root and fatness of the olive-tree; boast not against the branch- es." " As face answereth to face in water, so the heart of man to man." 2. The case absolute; as, "His father dying, and no heir being left except himself, lie succeeded to the estate." " The question having been fully dis- cussed, and all objections completely refuted, the decision was unanimous." 3. The infinitive mood with its adjuncts, used as a nominative case ; as, " To smile on those whom we should censure, and to countenance those who are guilty of bad actions, is to be guilty ourselves. ;, " To be pure in heart, to be pious and benevolent, constitutes human happiness." 32 INFLECTIONS. 4. The vocative* case without strong emphasis, when- it is a respectful call to attention, expresses no sense completed, and comes under the inflection of the suspending pause ; as, " Men, brethren, and fathers, — hearken." " Friends, Romans, coun- trymen ! — lend me your ears." 5. The parenthesis commonly requires the same inflection at its close, while the rest of it is often to be spoken in the monotone; as, " Know ye not, brethren, {for I speo.k to them that know the law,) that the law hath dominion over a man as long as he liveth?" An exception may apply to the general principle of this rule, when- ever one voice is to represent two persons, thus; If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled ; not- withstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; wha: doth it profit'? Here the sense is entirely suspended to the close, and yet the clause introduced as the language of another, requires the falling slide. Another exception, resting on still stronger ground, occurs where an antithetic clause requires the intensive falling slide on some chief word, to denote the true meaning: as in the following example, — " The man who is in the daily use of ardent spirit, if he does not become a drunkard, is in danger of losing his health and character." In this periodic sentence, the meaning is not formed till the close ; and yet the falling slide must be given at the end of the second iv ember, or the sense is subverted ; for the rising slide on drunkard would imply that his becoming such, is the only way to preserve health and character. Rule V. Tender emotion generally inclines the voice to the rising slide. Grief, compassion, and delicate affection, soften the soul, and are uttered in words, invariably with corresponding qualities of voice. Hence the vocative case, when it expresses either affection or delicate respect, takes the rising slide ; as, " Jesus saith unto her, Mary." "Jesus saith unto him, Thomas." " Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet."— " Sirs, what must I do *y be saved ?" The same slide prevails in pathetic poetry. Thus with the year, Seasons return ; but not to me returns * I use this term as better suiting my purpose than that of our gram- marians, — nominative independent. INFLECTIONS. S3 Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine, But cloud instead, and ever during dark Surround me So in the beautiful little poem of Cowper, on the receipt of Ki'S mother's picture. My mother! when I learn'd that thou wast dead, Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed.1 Hover'd thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son. Wretch even then, life's journey just begun 1 I heard the bell toll'd on thy burial day, I saw the hearse, that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nurs'ry window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu. Rule VI. The rising slide is commonly used at the last pause but one in a sentence. The reason is, that the ear expects the voice to fall when the sense is finished ; and therefore it should rise for the sake of variety and harmony, on the pause that precedes the cadence. — Ex. " The minor longs to be at age, chen to be a man of business, then to make up an estate, then to arrive at honours, then to retire." *' ^uar lives, (says Seneca,) are spent either in doing nothing at all, or in doing nothing to the purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do." Falling Inflection. So instinctively does bold and strong passion express itself by this turn of voice, that, just as far as the falling slide be- comes intensive, it denotes emphatic force. The VIII. IX. and X. rules will illustrate this remark. Rule VII. The indirect question, or that which is not answered bv yes or no, has the falling inflection ; and its answer has the same. As, What. Tubero, did that naked sword of yours mean, in the '.attle of Pharsalia? At whose breast was its point aimed 1 What was the mean iag of your arms, your spirit, your eyes, your hands, your ardour of soul 1 V 34 INFLECTIONS. Wno say the people that I dm ? They ansivering said, John the Bap- tist; but some say, Ellas ; and others say thai one of the old prophets is risen again. — Where is boasting then? It is excluded. — Who first se- duced them to that foul revolt ? The infernal serpent. The want of distinction in elementary books, between that sort of question which turns the voice upward, and that which turns it downward, must have been felt by every teacher even of children. Rule VIII. The language of authority, of surprise, and of distress, is commonly uttered with the falling inflection. 1. The imperative mood, as used to express the commands of a superior, denotes that energy o2 thought which usually requires the falling slide ; as, Uzziel! half these draw off and coast the south, With strictest watch; these other, wheel the north. — — Ithuriel and Zephon ! With winged speed Search through this garden ; leave unsearch'd no nook. Up, comrades! up! — in Rokeby's halls Ne'er be it said our courage falls. 2. Denunciation and reprehension, on the same principle, commonly require the falling inflection ; as, Wo unto you, Pharisees! Wo unto you, lawyers! But God said unto him, thou fool! — this night thy soul shall be required of thee. But Jesus said, Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites ? Paul said to Ely- mus, O full of all subtlety and all mischief! 'Thou child of the Devil, — thou enemy of all righteousness ! Hen^e ! — home, you idle creatures, get you home. You blocks, you stones ! You worse than senseless things . This would be tame indeed, should we place the unem- phatic, rising slide on these terms of reproach, thus : You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! 3. Exclamation, when it does not express tender emotion, nor ask a question, inclines to adopt the falling slide. Terror expresses itself in trrs way; as, Angels ! and ministers of grace, — defend us. Exclamation, denoting surprise, or reverence, or distress, — or a INFLECTIONS. 35 combination of these different emotions, generally adopts the falling slide. For this reason I suppose that Mary, weeping at the sepulchre, when she perceived that the r ;« EMPHASIS. . 39 Here the slide which begins on fog, continues to rise on the three fol- lowing* syllables; but, in the question, Will you go to-day 1 the same slide terminates with the syllable on which it begins. In the falling slide, thus ; The testimony was given not by narrative, but by inter %,.. CHAPTER V. EMPHASIS. Emphasis is governed by the laws of sentiment, being inseparably associated with thought and emotion. It is the most important principle, by which elocution is related to the operations of mind. Hence when it stands opposed to the claims of custom or of harmony, these always give way to its supremacy. Now I presume that every one, who is at all accustomed to accurate observation on this subject, must be sensible how very little this grand principle is regarded in forming our earliest habits of elocution ; and therefore how hopeless are all efforts to correct what is wrong in these habits, with- out a just knowledge of emphasis. What then is emphasis % It is a distinctive utterance of words, tohich are especially significant, with such a degree and kind of stress, as conveys their meaning in the best manner. According to this definition, I would include the whole subject under emphatic stress and emphatic inflection. Sect. 1. — Emphatic Stress. This consists chiefly in the loudness of the note, but includes also the time in which important words are uttered. A good reader or speaker, when he utters a word on 40 EMPHATIC STRESS. which the meaning of a sentence is suspended, spontaneously dwells on that word, according to the intensity of its mean- ing. The significance and weight which he thus attaches to words that are important, is a very different thing from the abrupt and jerking emphasis, which is often witnessed in a bad delivery. It is generally true that a subordinate rank belongs to " particles, and to all those words which merely express some circumstance of a thought. And when a word of this sort is raised above its relative importance, by an undue stress in pronunciation, we perceive a violence done to other wo r ds of more significance. Thus; Show pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive, Let a repenting rebel live. But to show that emphasis attaches itself not to the part of speech, but to the meaning of a word, let one of these little words become important in sense, and then it demands a corresponding stress of voice; as: " Then said the high priest, are these things so ?" Again ; " Paul had determined to sail by Ephesus." This sentence, with a moderate stress on Ephesus, implies that the Apostle meant to stop there ; just as a common phrase, " the ship is going to Holland by Liverpool," — im- plies that she will touch at the latter place. But an emphatic stress on by expresses the true sense, namely that he did not mean to stop there, thus ; " Paul had determined to sail by Ephesus." In the ease that follows too, we see how the meaning of a sentence often depends on the manner in which we utter one short word. ;< One of the servants of the high priest, (being his kinsman whose ear Peter cut off,) saith, did not I see thee in the garden with him'?" Now if we utter this, as most readers do, with a stress on kinsman, and a short pause after it, we make the sentence affirm that the man whose ear Peter cut off was kinsman to the high priest, which was not the fact. But a stress upon his, makes this servant, kinsman to another man. who received the wound. ABSOLUTE EMPHATIC STRESS. 41 These illustrations show that the principle of emphatic stress is perfectly simple ; and that it falls on a particular word, not chiefly Because that word belongs to one or another class in grammar, but because, in the present case, it is important in sense. To designate the words that are thus important, by the action of the voice in em- phasis, is just what the etymological import of this term implies, namely, to show, to point out, to make manifest. But farther to elucidate a subject, that has been treated with much obscurity, emphatic stress may be distinguished into that which is absolute, and that which is antithetic or relative. Absolute emphatic stress. * Walker, and others who have been implicitly guided by his authority, without examination, lay down the broad po- sition, that emphasis always implies antithesis; and that it can never be proper to give emphatic stress to a word, unless it stands opposed to something in sense. The theory which supposes this, is too narrow. to cor- respond with the philosophy of elocution. Emphasis is the soul of delivery, because it is the most discriminating mark of emotion. Contrast is among the sources of emotion : and the kind of contrast really intended by Walker and others, namely, that of affirmation and negation, it is peculiarly the province of emphasis to designate. But this is not the whole of its province. There are other sources, besides antithetic relation, from which the mind receives strong and vivid im- pressions, which it is the office of vocal language to express. Thus exclamation, apostrophe, and bold figures in general, denoting high emotion, demand a correspondent force in pronunciation: and that too in many cases where the em« phatic force laid on a word is absolute, because the thought expressed by that word is forcible of itself, without any aid from contrast. Thus; Up ! comrades — up I — Wo unto you, Pharisees! Hence ! — home, you idle creatures. ~ Angels I and ministers of grace,— defend us 4* 42 ANTITHETIC OR RELATIVE STRESS. Antithetic or relative stress. The principle on which the stress depends in this case, will be evident from a few examples. Siudy, not so much to show knowledge as to acquire it. He that cannot bear a jest, should not make one. It is not so easy to hide one's faults, as to mend them. We think less of the injuries we do, than of those we suffer. It is not so difficult to talk well, as to live well. When the antithetic terms in a sentence are both ex- pressed, the mind instantly perceives the opposition between them, and the voice as readily marks the proper distinction. But when only one of these terms is expressed, the other is to be made out by reflection ; and in proportion to the ease or difficulty with which this antithetic relation is perceived by the mind, the emphatic sense is more or less vivid. On this principle, when a word expresses one part of a contrast, while it only suggests the other, that word must be spoken with a force adapted to its peculiar office ; and this is the very case where the power of emphasis rises to its highest point. Examples. I that deny'd thee gold, will give my heart. Here the antithetic terms gold and heart, being both expressed, a com- mon emphatic stress on these, makes the sense obvious. But in the following case, only one part of the antithesis is expressed. Brutus says, You wrong'd yourself, to write In such a case. The strong emphasis on yourself, implies that Cassius thought him- self injured by some other person. Accordingly we see in the prece- ding sentence his charge against Brutus, — "you have wronged me." Again, Brutus says to Cassius, You have done that you should be sorry for. With a slight stress upon sorry, this implies that he had done wrong, but suggests nothing of the antithetic meaning, denoted by the true emphasis, thus, You have done that you should be sorry for. This emphasis on the tormer word implies, " Not only are you liable to do wrong, but you have done so already;" on the latter it implies, " though you are nU sorry, you ought to be sorry." This was precisely the meaning of Brutus, for he replied to a threat of Cassius, " I may do that I shall be sorry for." EMPHATIC INFLECTION. 43 Sect. 2. — Emphatic Inflection. Thus far our view of emphasis has been limited to the degree of stress with which emphatic words are spoken. But this is only a part of the subject. The kind of stress, is not less important to the sense, than the degree. Let any one glance his eye over the examples of the foregoing pages, and he will see that strong emphasis demands, in all cases, an appropriate inflection; and that to change this in- flection perverts the sense. This will be perceived at once in the following case, " We must take heed not only to what we say, but to what we dd." By changing this slide, and laying the falling on say and the rising on do, every ear must feel that violence is done to the meaning. So in this case, The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars; But in ourselves, that we are underlings; the rising inflection or circumflex on stars and the falling inflection on ourselves is so indispensable, that no reader of the least taste would mistake the one for the other. But the principle which I wish to illustrate, will be more obvi- ous, by recurring to the case recently mentioned, in which one part of a contrast is expressed, and the other only sug- gested ; so that the whole meaning of a sentence depends on the emphatic inflection given to a single word. A strong example of this has already been given in the perversion oi sense which would arise from wrong inflection on the word Irunkard; see the close of Rule IV. p. 32. Another ex- ample we have in Paul's exhortation to Christian servants ; " And they that have believing masters, let them not des- pise them, because they are brethren; but rather do them service, &c. 5: The meaning is, their being fellow Chris- tians, is no reason why they should be disobeyed as masters ; and this the rising slide on brethren expresses. The falling slide would express a very different sense, namely, that 44 EMPHATIC INFLECTION. this Christian relation is a sufficient reason why the servants should not despise their masters. Again, a distinguished writer says of some conceited men ; " They have not pa- tience to read a book, till they thoroughly understand it." His meaning is, they never read it so as to understand ; an£ this the rising slide expresses. But the other slide would imply, that they have patience to read it, after they under- stand it. One more question remains to be answered ; how shall we know when an emphatic word demands the rising, and when the falling inflection ? If the reader has studied the Rules of Inflection which begin at p. 29, he can seldom be at a loss to answer this question for himself. According to established laws of voice, he will know what inflection to give emphatic words, when connected by the disjunctive or ; — as, " Will you ride, or walk . ? " So when the direct question and answer occur ; — as, " Armed, say you? Armed, my lord." — So when ne- gation is opposed to affirmation ; — as " He will not come to-day, but to-morrow." Besides these general remarks, it may be added, that the voice instinctively accompanies emphatic, positive affirmation, with the falling slide, and the antithetic negation with the rising. But there is a large class of sentences, in which qualified affirm- ation demands the rising turn of voice, often where an antithetic object is suggested or expressed hypothelicajly. It is not the simple rising slide, but the circumflex, which designates this sort of empha- sis. The two indeed, may fall on shades of thought so nearly the same, that it is immaterial which is used; while in other cases the office of the circumflex is so peculiar as to make it quite perceptible to an ear of any discrimination. Every good reader will make this distinction between the first and second instances in which heaven occurs, in the following example; " The baptism of John, was it from heaven, or of men'? and they said, if we shall say from heaven, he will say, why then did ye not believe him V The plain distinc- tion between the rising and the falling emphasis, when antithetic relation is expressed or suggested, is, the falling denotes positive affirmation or enunciation of a thought with energy; the rising either expresses negation, or qualified and conditional affirmation. In the latter case the antithetic object, if there is one, may be sug- EMPHATIC INFLECTION. 45 jested ironically, or hypothetically, or comparatively ; thus — Ironically ; They tell us to be moderate j but they, they are to revel in profusion. Hypothetically ; If men see our faults, they will talk among themselves, though we l efuse to let them talk to ils. Comparatively ; The beggar was blind, as well as lame. He is more knave than fool. In such a connexion of two correlate words, whether in contrast or comparison, the most prominent of the two in sense, that in which the essence of the thought lies, commonly has the strong, falling em- phasis ; and that which expresses something subordinate or circum- stantial, has the rising. The same rising or circumflex emphasis pre- vails where the thought is conditional, or something is implied ->r in- sinuated, rather than strongly expressed. The amount is, that generally the weaker emphasis, where there is tender, or conditional, or partial enunciation of thought, requires the voice to rise ; while the strong emphasis, where the thought is bold, and the language positive, adopts the falling slide, except where some counteracting principle occurs, as in the interrogative inflection. In all such cases, explanation becomes obscurity, if carried out of its proper limits. Beyond these, I can no more tell why sorrow or sup- plication incline the voice to the rising slide, while indignation or command incline it to the falling, than I can tell why one emotion flashes in the eye, and another vents itself in tears. Nor is it reason- able to demand such explanations on this subject, as are not expected on any other. The logician rests in his consciousness and his expe- rience as the basis of argument; and philosophy no more requires or allows us to push our inquiries beyond first principles or facts, in elo- cution, than in logic. Emphatic Clause. It will be readily perceived that the stresj proper to he laid on any single word, depends much on the comparative stress with which other words in the same sentence are pronounced. A whisper, if it is soft or strong, according to sense, may be as truly discriminating as the loudest tones. The voice should be disciplined to this distinction, in order to avoid the common fault, which confounds vociferation with emphatic expression. 46 EMPHATIC ARTICULATION. But there are cases in which more than common stress belongs to several words in succession, forming an emphatic clause. In some cases of this sort, the several syllables have nearly equal stress : thus ; -Heaven and earth will witness, If — Rome — must — fall, — that we are innocent, again ; Could we but climb where Moses stood, And view the landscape o'er, Not Jordan's stream, nor death's — cold — flood, Should fright us from the shore. In uttering the emphatic clause, in these cases, the voice drops its pitch, and proceeds nearly in a grave, deliberate monotone. In other cases, such a clause is to be distinguished from the rest of the sentence, by a general increase of force ; and yet its words retain a relative difference among them- selves, in quantity, stress, and inflection. One example may make this last remark still plainer. Suppose Paul to have said merely, " I came not to baptize, but to preach" The contrast expressed, limits the emphasis to two words. But take the whole sentence, as it is in Paul's language, " I came not to baptize, but to preach the gospel ;" — and you have a contrast between an emphatic word, and an em- phatic clause. And though the sense is just as before, you must change the stress in this clause from preach to gospel, or you utter nonsense. If you retain the stress on preach, the paraphrase is " I came not to baptize the gospel, but to preach the gospel." Double Emphasis. This is always grounded on antithetic relation, expressed in pairs of contrasted objects. It w r ill be sufficiently illus- trated by a very few examples. " The young are slaves to novelty, the old to custom" MODULATION. 47 " / nd why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother 's eye, but considerest not the beam that is j. thine own eye'*" There is but one remark, which is important to b, made in ths case. In attempting- to give the utmost significance to ea"ch of the terms, standing in close succession, we are in danger of diminishing the amount of meaning, expressed by the whole. The only rule that can be adopted is, so to adjust the stress and inflection of voice, on the different terms, as shall most clearly, and yet most agreeably con- vey the sense of the entire passage. There is still another kind of sentences, in which there occurs what I would call cumulative emphasis. This consists of a complex thought, made up of particu- lars, expressed in a succession of emphatic words. A striking example of this we have in Paul's indignant reply to the message from the magistrates, that he and his associates, unjustly imprisoned, might be released, and go quietly away. " But Paul said, they have beaten us, openly, unconde?/ined, being Ro?nans, and have cast us into prison ; and now do they thrust us oat privily ? nay verily; but let them come themselves, and fetch us out." Here there is no difficulty from that antithetic mixing of terms just now alluded to. CHAPTER VI. MODULATION. This includes a number of distinct topics, which may perhaps with sufficient exactness be brought together in one chapter. Sect. 1. — Faults of Modulation. 1. Monotony. The monotone, employed with skill, in pronouncing a simile, or occasionally an elevated or for- cible thought, may have, great rhetorical effect; just as other movements of the voice, are felt to be proper, when they are prompted by genius and emotion. But the thing I mean to condemn, is that dull repetition of sounds, on the same pitch, and with the same quantity, which the hearers ascribe to want of spirit in the speaker. Want of variety is fatal to vivacity and interest in delivery, on the same prin- cipal that it is so in all other cases. In music, a succession 48 MODULATION. of perfect concords, especially on the same note, would be intolerable. 2. Mechanical variety. An unskilful reader, perhaps resolved to avoid monotony, may think nothing more is necessary, than to employ the greatest possible number of ' notes ; and thus his chief aim is to leap from one extreme to another of his voice. In a short time, this attempt at variety becomes a regular return of similar notes, at stated intervals. Another defect, of the same sort, arises from an attempt to produce variety by a frequent and arbitrary change of stress. But here too the only advantage gained is, that we exchange an absolute for a relative sameness ; for the favorite stress returns periodically, without regard to sense. There is still another kind of this uniform variety, which is extremely common. It consists in the habit of striking a sentence at the beginning, with a high and full voice, which becomes gradually weaker and lower, as the sentence proceeds, especially if it has much length, till it is closed perhaps with one quarter of the impulse with which it commenced. Then the speaker, at the beginning of a new sentence, inflates his lungs, and pours out a full volume of sound, for a few words, sliding downwards again, to a feeble close. Sect. 2. — Remedies. 1. The most indispensable attainment, towards the cure of bad habits in managing the voice, is the spirit of empha- sis. Suppose a student of elocution to have a scholastic tone, or some other of the faults mentioned above ; — teacn him emphasis, and you have taken the most direct way to remove the defect. It is difficult to give a particular illus- tration of my meaning, except by the living voice ; but the experiment is worthy of a trial, to see if the faulty manner cannot be represented to the eye. Read the following pas- MODULATION. 49 sage from the Spectator;* recollecting, at the beg. nning of each sentence, to strike the words in the largest type, with a high and full voice, gradually sinking away in pitch and qua, lity, as the type diminishes, to the close. EXAMPLE. OUR SIGHT IS THE MOST PERFECT, and most de- lightful, of all our senses. IT FILLS THE MIND WITH THE LARGEST VARIETY OF IDEAS, converses witb ITS objects at the greatest distance, and continues THE LONGEST IN ACTION. WITHOUT BEING TIRED OR SATIATED WITH ITS PROPER ENJOYMENTS. THE SENSE OF FEELING CAN INDEED GIVE US A NOTION OF EXTENSION, SHAPE, AND ALL OTHER IDEAS THAT ENTER AT THE EYE. EXCEPT COLOURS. AT THE SAME TIME, it is very much confined in its OPERATIONS, TO THE NUMBER, BULK, AND DISTANCE OF ITS PAR- TICULAR OBJECTS. If you suczeed in understanding the above illustration, then vary the trial on the same example, with a view to another fault, the periodic stress and tone. Take care to speak the words printed in small capitals with a note sensibly higher and stronger than the rest, dropping the voice immediately after these elevated words, into an undulating tone, on the following syllables, — thus : Our sight is the most nerfect, and most delightful, of all our senses. It fills tLe mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its object at the greatest distance, and continues the longest in action, without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments. The sense of feeling can ind pd give us a notion of extension, shape, and all other ideas that e> ;er at the eye, except colors. At the saaie time, it ♦ No. 411. 5 50 MODULATION. is very much confined in its operations, to the numbe/, rULK and dis- tance of its particular objects.* It is necessary now to give this same passage once more, so distinguishing the chief words, by the Italic character, as to exhibit the true pronunciation. O r sight is the most perfect, and most delightful, of all our senses. It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas ; converses with its objects at the greatest distance ; and continues the longest in action, without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments. The sense of feeling can indeed give us a notion of extension, shape, and all other ideas that enter at the eye, except colors. At the same time, it is very much confined in its operations, to the number, bulk, and distance of its particular objects. Bat as no word in the foregoing passage, is strongly emphatic, my meaning may be more evident from an example or two, where a dis- criminating stress on a single word, determines the manner in which the following words are to be spoken. Take this couplet from Pope, and read it first with the metrical ac cent and tone, thus ; What the weak head, with strongest bias rules, Is pride, the never failing vice of fools. Now let it be observed, that in these lines there is really but one em- phatic word, namely pride. If we mark this with the strong emphasis, and the falling inflection, the following words will of necessity be spoken as they should be, diopping a note or two below the key notr of the sentence,t and proceeding nearly on a monotone to the end ;- tnusj What the weak head, with strongest bias rules, Is %£ the never failing vice of fools. * Walker's ear, though in cases of emphatic inflection, very discrim- inating, seems in other cases to have been perverted by his theory of harmonic inflection, as appears from his manner of pronouncing the following couplet, which nearly coincides with the tone I am condemn- ing. A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state. t By key note, I mean the prevailing note, that which you heaj* when a man reads aloud in another room, while you cannot distinguish any words that he utters. PITCH OF VOICE. 51 Another example may help to render this more intelligible. Must we the author of the public caldm % <£, Or must we des % the author of the public calamities 1 In pronouncing these examples, if the proper sound is given to the emphatic words, all the rest must be spoken essentially as here described. It follows that the most direct means of curing artificial tones, is to acquire a correct emphasis. But, — 2. In order to this, another attainment seems indispens- able, namely, s.me good degree of discrimination as to vocal tones and inflections. Some, who can imitate a sound, immediately after hearing it from another voice, suppose this to be the only way in which it can be done. But let a thousand persons, who understand the English language, repeat the familiar question, " Do you expect to go, or stay?" — And will not every one of the thousand give the same turn of voice on the words in Italics? Where is the difficulty then of placing such a mark on these turns of voice, that they may be transferred to any other wordl This simple principle suggested to Walker his notatio: of sounds for the eye; and incomplete as it is, something of the kind is so necossary to the student of elocution, that, without it, the aid of a living teacher cannot supply the defect. And in most cases, nothing is wanting to derive advantage from such a theory but a little patience and perseverance in its application. Sect. 3. — Pitch of Voice. This is a relative modification of voice; by which we mean that high or low note, which prevails in speaking, and which has a governing influence upon the whole scale of notes employed. In every one's voice, this governing note varies with circumstances, but it is sufficiently exact to consider it a3 threefold ; the upper pitch, used in call- ing to one at a distance; the middle, used in conversation; and the lower, used in cadence, or in a grave, emphatic un- der key. Exertion of voice on the first, exposes it to break ; and on the last, renders articulation thick and difficult, and 52 QUANTITY. leaves no room for compass below the pitch. The middle key, or that which we spontaneously adopt in earnest conversation, allows the greatest variety and energy in speaking. Whether thts is high or low, compared with that of another man, is not essential, provided it be not in extreme. Among the first secular orators of Britain, some have spoken on the grave, bass-key; while Pitt's voice, it is said, was a full tenor, and Fox's a treble. Tne voice that is on a bass-key, if clear and well toned, has some advantages in point of dignity. But a high tone, uttered w^h the same effort of lungs, is more audible than a low one. Without referring 'o other proofs of this, the fact just now mentioned is sufficient; that we spontaneously raise our key, in calling to one at a distance; for the simple reason that we instinctively know he will be more likely to hear us, in a high note than a low one. So universal is this instinct, that we may observe it in very little children, and even in the call and response of the parent bird and her young, and in most brute animals that have voice. The influence of emotion on the voice, is also among the philoso- phical considerations pertaining to this subject. A man under strong intellectual excitement, walks with a firmer and quicker step than when he is cool; and the same excitement which braces the muscles, and gives energy to the movements of the body, has a correspondent effect on the movements of the voice. Earnestness in common con- versation assumes a higher note, as it proceeds, though the person addressed is at no greater distance than before. A practical corollary from these suggestions is, that the speaker or reader should avoid a high pitch, at the beginning, lest he n-e, with the increase of interest, to painful and unmanageable elevation. The proper means of avoiding extremes, is to learn the distinction between force and elevation; and to acquire the power of swelling the voice on a low note. This introduces our next topic of consideration. Sect. 4. — Quantity. This term I use, not in the restricted sense of gramma- rians and prosodists, but as including rotundity and fulness of tone, loudness, and time. Rotundity and fulness. — As to inflection, emphasis and the varied adaptation of tones to sentiment, the only laws of voice, in deliberate speaking and reading, that can be considered as natural, are derived from conversation. But in another respect, the habits acquired from this source, occasion some of the most stubborn difficulties, which the QUANTITY. 53 learner in elocution has to surmount. For, to what pur pose has he been accustomed to use his voice? Almost exclusively in a hurried utterance of a sentence or two at once, to an individual, or a small number of persons, so near him, or so well acquainted with what he is saying, as to understand him, though it be but half spoken. Thus, by using his voice only in conversation, (excepting occa- sionally, when he has opened his organs to a fuller note, in speaking a word or two, to some one at a distance,) he has been confirmed in a rapid, indistinct, feeble enunciation of the chief elementary sounds. But when he comes to train his organs, in exercises of elocution; that is, when he comes to read or speak any thing, so that it may be audible and interesting to a considerable number of hearers, a new task is imposed on his vocal powers. Cost what it may, he must exchange the clipping, slurring, jerking sounds of fire- side talk, for a clear, open articulation, or he cannot speak nor read well. Dignity and force in delivery, depend much on the power of filling, and swelling, and protracting an open vowel sound ; but no one attains this power, without pains and care ; and without a process different from any thing that is ordinarily acquired in conversation. It requires very little skill in sounds, to perceive that a in hat, is shorter than a in hate ; that is, in the former case, the organs pass quickly over the vowel to the consonant, — in the latter, tr^re is more continuance on the vowel. Now this continuance may be protracted, more or less, at plea- sure ; for it requires only that we begin the sound of a in hate, and keeping the organs in exactly the same posi- tion, let the stream of sound proceed ; thus, — ha . . . . te, ha te. Just* so, if you bring the organs to the proper position, and begin the sound of a in hat, you may protract it through the whole stream of breathy if you please, before the t is spoken, — ha t. But as every experiment of this kind implies a longer 54 QUANTITY. note on the vowel sound, and tends almost of course to a louder and higher note, it will be better illustrated in con- nexion with the following articles. Loudness. — In theory, perhaps, every one can easily un- derstand, that a sound may be either loud or soft, on the same note. The only difference, for example, betwixt the sound produced by a heavy stroke, and a gentle one, on the same bell, is in the quantity or momentum. This distinction as applied to music", is perfectly familiar to all acquainted with that art. As applied to elocution, however, it is not so easily made ; for it is a common thing for speakers to con- found high sounds with loud, and low with soft. Hence we often hear it remarked of one, that he speaks in a low voice, when the meaning is, a feeble one ; and perhaps if he were told that he is not loud enough, he would instantly raise his key, instead of merely increasing his quantity on the same note. If any one, who has given no attention to this point, thinks it too easy to demand attention, he may be better satisfied by a single ex- periment. Let him take this line of Shakspeare, O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome ! and read it first in a voice barely audible. Then let him read it again and again, on r he same pitch, doubling his quantity or impulse of sound, at each repetition, and he will find that it requires great care and management to do this, without raising his voice to a higher note. Strength of voice depends on the possession of perfect vocal organs, and on the due exercise of these. The lungs, trachea, larynx, glottis, and epiglottis, are organs of sound, but not of speech, without the aid of others, namely the tongue, palate, lips, teeth, and nostrils, which are also organs of articulation. When these organs are all good, the voice of a speaker has some- times been trained to such power as to be distinctly heard by twenty thousand people. To strengthen the voice by exercise, observe these directions; (1) Whenever you use your voice on commoi occasions, use as much voice as propriety will permit. (2) Read aloud, as a staled exercise. (3) Avoid all extreme efforts of lungs, especially in case-s of hoarse- ness. (4) Avoid habits that injure the lungs, — such as attitudes of study, that cramp the vital functions; stimulating food or drinks, in connexion with speaking; and sudden exposure to cold air, when the jumgs are healed. Time. — The reader is desired here to turn back to the QUANTITY. 55 remarks which I made, p. 53, on the words hat and hate, exemplifying the protraction of sound in a long vowel. That he may the better understand my meaning, let him suppose himself listening to a military officer, at the head of a brigade, giving the word of command, march. The only way in which he can possibly utter this word, so as to be heard by several thousand men, is so to manage the only vowel in it, as to expend upon it the fall power of his voice. To do this, he must not clip off the a, as he might in conver- sation, but must strike it on that key note where his voice has most strength, and then protract this broad, ooen sound, perhaps for two seconds, before he touches the consonants which follow ; thus, — Ma rch. The case is just the same with the still broader vowel sound, in the word halt, as uttered in military command. That there is no impossibility in acquiring this power of protracting and swelling any open sound, is evident from the fact, that it is constantly done in music, when a pointed semi- breve holds the voice to one continuous note, perhaps for three seconds. But as discipline of the voice on unmeaning, elementary sounds, seems an arbitrary, and somewhat forbidding exer- cise, I shall set down a few brief examples, in which senti- ment and emotion demand the above distinctions to be made, as to fulness, loudness, and time. These are intended as mere specimens, from which the reader will easily under- stand how to select others of similar character, from the Exercises, under different heads, especially Transition. These it will also be observed are taken from cases of excla- mation, or other strong emotion, and addressed for the most part to persons supposed to be at a distance, requiring a full, loud note, on the emphatic words. He woke to hear his sentry's shriek, To arms ! — they come ! the Greek ! — the Greek ! 56 COMPASS OF VOICE. Farewell, happy fields. Where joy forever dwells. Hail, horrors ! — Hail ! N Infernal world! He shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted Victory ! Charge! Chester, Charge! On, Stanley, On! Zophiel, -in mid air, aloud thus cried, Arm, warriors! Arm, for fight. Satan was heard commanding loud; Vanguard ! to right and left the front unfold.* But the reader must now be reminded, that while it is often indispensable to prolong, and fill out the sound of a word, under strong emphasis, it would be preposterous to speak common words in this manner. No variety of tones could produce the thrilling effects of music if every note were a semibreve. So in elocution, if every word and syllable were uttered with the same length, the uniformity would be as intolerable as the worst monotony. The easy flow of delivery, requires that particles, and subordinate syllables, should be touched as lightly as is consistent with distinct- ness; while both sentiment and harmony demand, that the voice should throw an increase of quantity upon important words by rest- ing on them, or by swell and protraction of sound, or both. He whose voice habitually prolongs short syllables, and such words as and, from, to, the, &c. must be a heavy speaker. But time, in elocution, has a larger application than that which re- spects words and clauses, I mean that which respects the general roAe of delivery, in this case, it is not practicable, as in music, nor per- haps desirable, to establish a fixed standard, to which every reader or speaker shall conform. The habits of different men may differ con- siderably in rate of utterance, without being chargeable with fault. But I refer rather to the difference which emotion will produce, in the rate of the same individual. I have said before, that those pas- sions which quicken or retard a man's step in walking, will produce a similar effect on his voice in speaking. Narration is equable and flowing; vehemence, firm and accelerated; anger and joy, rapid. Whereas dignity, authority, sublimity, awe, — assume deeper tones, and a slower movement. "Accordingly we sometimes hear a good reaier or speaker, when there is some sudden turn of thought, check himself in the full current of utterance, and give indescribable power to a sentence, or part of a sentence, by dropping his voice, and adopt- ing a slow, full pronunciation. Sect. 5. — Compass of Voice. In this I refer to the range of notes, above and below * See Appendix for more examples, under this head. COMPASS OF VOICE. 57 the governing or natural key, which are required by a spirited and diversified delivery. Sometimes from inveterate habit, and sometimes from incapacity of the organs, the voice has a strong, clear bot- tom, without any compass upwards. In other cases, it has a good top, but no compass below its key. Extreme in- stances to the contrary there may be, but commonly, I have no doubt that when a speaker uses only a note or two, above and below the key, it arises from habit, and not from organic defect. Directions on this subject would be comparatively easy, if all who need them were acquainted with music. But experience taught me long ago, that no theories in elocution, which presuppose learners in this art to possess skill in musical sounds, can be generally useful. Multitudes must be taught reading and speaking, who cannot accu- rately distinguish musical intervals of notes. Those who can do it, will find great facility in cultivating quantity and compass of voice. To such I recommend a course of experiments on different vowel sounds, such as occur in the examples ot emphatic words under the last head. Thus, begin with hail, and speak it rather feebly, on the lowest note of your voice. Then repeat it, a note higher, and so on through the octave, but still in a small voice. Then do the same thing with increas( of strength, as you raise the note, that is, growijg louder as you proceed. Finally, do the same thing with a view to prolongation of sound, uttering the word hail, with one beat, then with two, three, &c. If you attempt to combine in one experiment, com- pass, loudness, and length of sound, the trial of voice will be severe, and should be continued but a short time at once. When this experiment is finished, it may be renewed on other words, as arm, charge, hope; the ultimate aim being in each case, to accustom the voice to notes high and loio, loud and long. When the student has ascertained his compass, by such experiments on single words, he may then practice reading passages of some length, on that part of his voice which he especially wishes to im- prove ; taking care, in this more protracted exercise, not to pitch on the extreme note of his voice, either way, so far as to preclude some variety above or below, to correspond with natural delivery. I would advise him next to read passages where the sentiment and style are especially adapted to the purpose he has in view. If he wishes to cultivate the bottom of his voice, he may take passages of poetry, in which the simile occurs, a figure that generally requires a low and equable movement of voice. If he wishes to increase his compass on the higher notes, let him choose passages in which spirited emotion prevails; especially such as have a succession of interrogative sentences. Instead of giving examples he~e, I refer the reader to Exercises on compass of voice. 58 RHETORICAL PAUSE. Sect. 6. — Rhetorical Pause. Rhetorical punctuation has a few marks of its own, as the point of interrogation, and of admiration, the parenthesis, and the hyphen, all of which denote no grammatical rela- tion, and have no established length. And there is no good reason, if such marks are used at all, why they should not be rendered more adequate to their purpose The interrogative mark, for example, is used to denote, not length of pause, but appropriate modification of voice, at the end of a question. But it happens that this one mark, as now used, represents two things, that are exactly con- trary to each other. When the child is taught, as he still is in many schools, always to raise his voice in finishing a question, he finds it easy to do so in a case like this, — " Will you go to day?' 1 — " Are they Hebrews?" But when he comes to the indirect question, not answered by yes, or no, his instinct, as I have said before, rebels against the rule, and he spontaneously reads with the falling slide, " Why are you silent ? Why do you 'prevaricate f* Now, in this latter case, if the usual mark of interrogation were inverted, d) when its office is to turn the voice downward, it would be discriminating, and significant of its design. Supposing the student to be already familiar with the common doctrine of punctuation, it is not my design to discuss it here; nor even to dwell upon the distinction be- tween grammatical and rhetorical pauses. All that is ne- cessary, is to remark distinctly, that visible punctuation cannot be regarded as a perfect guid? to quantity, any more than to inflections. Often the voice must rest, where no pause is allowed in grammar ; especially does this happen, when the speaker would fix attention on a single word, that stands as immediate nominative to a verb. As, Prosperity gains friends, adversity tries them. Some place tlie bliss in action, some in ease ', Those call it pleasure, and contentment these. RHETORICAL PAUSE. 59 Here the words in Italic take no visible p^is^ after them,- without violence to grammatical relation. But the ear demands a pause after each of these words, which no good reader will fail to observe. The same principle extends to the length of pauses. The comma, when it simply marks grammatical relation, is very short, as " He took with him Peter, and James, and John, his disciples." But when the comma is used in Ian guage of emotion, though it is the same pause to the eye, it may suspend the voice much longer than in the former case; as in the solemn and deliberate call to attention; — " Men, brethren, and fathers, hearken."* This leads me to the chief point, which I had in view under this head, the emphatic pause. It occurs sometimes before, but commonly after a striking thought is uttered, which the speaker thus presents to his hearers, as worthy to command assent, and be fixed in the memory, by a mo- ment of uninterrupted reflection. There is still another pause, so important in delivery, as to deserve a brief notice; I mean that with which a good speaker or reader marks the close of a paragraph, or divi- sion of a discourse. When he has finished one topic, he will enter on a new one, with a more familiar tone of voice, fcnd after such a pause, as prepares the hearers to accom- pany him Avith renewed satisfaction. When the voice has outrun itself, and reached too high * The rhetorical pause is as appropriate in music as in elocution. In this respect a skilful composer always conforms to sentiment, in a set piece. In metrical psalmody, though this adaptation cannot be made by the writer of the tune, it ought to be made in some good de- gree, by the performers. Instead of a tame subserviency to arbitrary- quantity, they may often, with powerful effect, insert or omit a pause, as sentiment demands. I have scarcely ever felt the influence of music more, than in one or two cases where the stanzas, being highly rhetorical, were divided only by a comma, and the choir spontaneously rushed over the musical pause at the end of the tune, and began it anew, from the impulse of emotion. See example, Watts, Book L Hymn 3, 6. and 7—8 and 9 stanzas. 60 TRANSITION. a pitch, one of these para graph -rests affords the best oppor tunity to resume the proper key. Sect. 7. — Transition. By this I mean those sudden changes of voice which often occur in delivery. To designate these changes, besides the rhetorical marks already employed to denote inflections, it will be necessary to adopt several new ones; and the following may answer the purpose ; signifying that the voice is to be modified, in reading what follows the marks respectively, thus: — (°) high. ( ••) slow. (°°) high and loud. (== ) quick. ( ) low. ( — ) plaintive. (oo) ' ow an d loud. ( || ) rhetorical pause. ( < ) increase. In respect to these marks, except the last, I observe that, when one of them occurs, it must be left to the reader's taste to determine how far its influence extends in what follows. In respect to this mark ( • • ) it may be used to signify a considerable protraction of sound on that syllable, which precedes it, and then it will be inserted in the course of the line, without brackets ; As -Heaven and earth will witness, If Rome • • must • • fall • • that we are innocent. When the same mark is designed to signify that a fas- sage is to be uttered with a slow rate, it will be inserted thus ( •• ) where the passage begins, — the extent of its in- fluence being left to the reader's taste ; or it may be com- bined with another mark, thus, (© ) which would signify low and slow, as (=£=) would high and quick, or ( -2. ) high and plaintive. EXPRESSION. 61 EXAMPLES. ( 5 ) And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and th« » cj £s were opened. Gabriel to his next in power thus spake : ( 00 ) Uzziel ! II half these draw off, and coast the south, With strictest watch; — these other I! wheel the north. C •• ) He scarce had ceased, when the superior fiend Was moving towards the shore; He call'd so loud that all the hollow deep Of hell •• resounded. (°°) Princes, — Potentates, Warriors ! II the flower of heaven, once yours, now lost .. If such astonishment as 'his can seize Eternal spirits. In the following example, we see Satan lamenting his loss of heaven, and then in the dignity of a fell despair, invoking the infernal world. In reading this, when the apostrophe changes, the voice should drop from the tones of lamentation, which are high and soft, to those which are deep and strong, on the words, " Hail, horrors," &c. (°) Is this the region, this the soil, the clime, Said then the lost archangel, this the seat, That we must change for heaven ? This mournful gloom II For that celestial light 1 Farewell, happy fields, Where joy forever dwells. ( 00 ) Hail horrors ! hail, Infernal world I And thou, .. prof "oundest hell, •• Receive thy new possessor ! Sect. 8. — Expression. This term I use, in rather a limited sense, to denote the proper influence of reverential and pathetic sentiment on the voice. There is a modification of voice, which accompanies awakened sensibility of soul, that is more easily felt than described ; and this constitutes the unction of delivery. With- out this, thoughvs that should impress, attract, or soothe the mind, often become repulsive. 6 62 REPRESENTATION. The fact cannot have escaped common observation, that sorrow, and its kindred passions, when carried to a high pitch, suspend the voice entirely. In a lower degree, triey give it a slender and tremulous utterance. Thus Aaron, when informed that his two sons were smitten dead, by a stroke of divine vengeance, " held his peace." T he emo- tions of his heart were too deep to find utterance in words. The highest passion of this sort, is expressed by silence; and when so far moderated, as to admit of words, it speaks only in abrupt fragments of sentences. Hence it is, that all artificial imitation, in this case, is commonly so unlike the reality. It leads to metaphors, to amplification and embel- lishment, in language, and to either vociferation or whining in utterance. Whereas the real passion intended to be im- itated, if it speaks at all, speaks without ornament, in few words, and in tones that are a perfect contrast to those of declamation. This distinction arises from those laws of the human mind, by which internal emotion is connected with its external signs. The heart, that is bursting with grief, feels the sympathy that speaks in a silent grasp of the hand, in tears, or in gentle tones of voice ; while it is shocked at the cold commiseration that utters itself in many words, firmly and formally pronounced. Passion has its own appropriate language ; and this, so far as the voice is concerned, is what I mean by expression. That this may be cultivated by the efforts of art, to some extent, is evident from the skill which actors have sometimes attained, in dramatic exhibition; a skill to which one of the fraternity alluded, in his remark to a dig- nitary of the church, the cutting severity of which consists in the truth it contains ; " We speak of fictions as if they were realities; you speak of realities as if they were fictions." The fact however, is, that the indescribable power communicated to the voice by a delicate sensibility, especially a Christian sensibil- ity, it is quite beyond the reach of art to imitate. Sect. 9. — Rhetorical Dialogue. This takes place when one voice personates two individ- uals or more. It seems necessary to dwell a little on this branch of modulation, which has scarcely been noticed by RHETORICAL DIALOGUE. 63 writers on oratory. Every one must have observed how much more interesting is an exhibition of men, as living" agents, than of things in the abstract. Now when the orator introduces another man as speaking, he either informs us what that man said, in the third person, or presents him to us as spoken to, in the second person, and as speaking himself, in the first. A thousand examples are at hand, to show the difference between telling us what was said by another man, and intro- ducing that man to speak to us himself. " Jesus told Peter that he should deny him thrice," is narrative. " Jesus said, Peter, thou shalt deny me thrice," is representation. The difference between these two modes of communication it is the province of taste to feel, but of criticism to explain. Let us then analyze a simple thought, as -expressed in these two forms ; " Jesus inquired of Simon, the son of Jonas, whether he loved him." " Jesus said, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me ?" The difference in point of vivacity is in- stantly perceived, but in what does this difference consist? In two things. The first manner throws verbs into past time, and pronouns into the third person, producing, in the latter especially, an indefiniteness of grammatical rela- tion, which is unfriendly to the clearness and vivacity of language. At the same time, the energy arising from the vocative case, from the figure of tense, and of interrogation, is sacrificed. As a principle of composition, though com- monly overlooked, this goes far to explain the difference between the tame and the vivid in st}rle. But the same difference is still more striking, when ana- .yzed by the principles of delivery. Transform an animated question into a mere statement of the fact, that such a question was asked, and all the intonations of voice are changed, so that you do not seem to hear a real person speaking, but are only told that he did speak. This change in expression of voice will be apparent in repeating the two forms of the example last quoted. 64 THE READING OF POETRY. The reader will perceive, that the principle which I here aim to illustrate, though it belongs primarily to the philosophy of style, has a very extensive influence over every department of delivery. The man who leels the inspiration of true eloquence, will find some of his happiest resources in this kind of representation. He can break through the trammels of a tame, inanimate address. He can ask questions, and answer them ; can personate an accu-er and a respondent; can suppose himself accused or interrogated, and give his replies. He can call up the absent or the dead, and make them speak through his lips. The skill of representing two or more persons, by appropriate management of language and voice, is properly called rhetorical dialogue. It was thus that the great orators of antiquity, and thus that Chrysostom and Massillon held their hearers in captivity. Sect. 10. — The reading of poetry. The genius of verse requires that it be pronounced with a fuller swell of the open vowels, and in a manner more melodious and flowing than prose. As the peculiar charms of poetry consist very much in delicacy of sentiment, and beauty of language, it were absurd to read it without regard to these characteristics. But on the other hand, to preserve the metrical flow of versification, and yet not impair the sense, is no easy attainment. The following general prin- ciples may be of use to the student. 1. In proportion as the sentiment of a passage is ele- vated, inspiring emotions of dignity or reverence, the voice has less variety of inflection, and is more inclined to the monotone. 2. When the sentiment of a passage is dedicate and gentle, especially when it is plaintive, it inclines the voice to the rising inflection ; and for this reason, poetry oftener requires the rising inflection than prose : yet, 3. The rights of emphasis must be respected in poetry. When the language of a passage is strong and discrimi- nating, or familiarly descriptive, or colloquial, — the same modifications of voice are required as in prose. The emphatic stress and inflection, that must be intensive, in prose, to express a thought forcibly, are equally necessary in poetry. THE READING OF POETRY. 65 As; Say first, of God above, or man below, What can we reason, but from what we know ? Is the great chain, that draws all to agree, And drawn suppurts, upheld by God or thee ? But sometimes virtue starves, while vice is fed : What then ? — is the reward of virtue bread? 4. The metrical accent of poetry is subordinate to sense, and to established usage in pronunciation. That is a child- ish conformity to poetic measure, which we sometimes hear, as marked in the following examples. False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, Its gaudy colours spreads on every place, Their praise is still, the style is excellent ; The sense they humbly take upon content. Where the metrical accent would do violence to every ear of any refinement, the best way of obviating the difficulty, is to give both the metrical and the customary accent ; at least so far, that neither shall be very conspicuous; thus — Our supreme foe, in time may much relent. Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing — I think of only two exceptions to these remarks on accent. The first is, where a distinguished poet has purposely violated harmony, to make the harshness of his line correspond with that of the thought. As; On a sudden open fly, With impetuous recoil, and jarring sound, The infernal doors ; and on the hinges grate, Harsh thunder. The other is where a poet of the same order, without any apparent reason, has so deranged the customary accent, that, to restore it in reading, would be a violation of euphony not to be endured ; thus — With glory attributed to the high Creator. Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute- 5. The pauses of verse should be so managed, if pos- sible, as most fully to exhibit the sense, without sacrificing the harmony of the composition. No good reader can fail 66 THE READING OF POETRY. to observe the caesural pause, occurring after the fourth syllable, in these flowing lines ; Warms in the sun II refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars I! and blossoms in the trees. Yet no good reader would introduce the same pause, from regard to melody, where the sense utterly forbids it, as in this line ; I sit, with sad II civility I read. There is another poetical pause, occurring at the end of the line. In blank verse, even when the sense of one line runs closely into the next, the reader may generally, not always, mark the end of the line, by a proper protraction and suspension of voice, on the closing syllable, — as in the follow- ing notation ; Thus with the year- Seasons return, but not to me returns •• Day II or the sweet approach of even or morn. And over them triumphant Death his dart •• Shook !l but delayed to strike. " The affectation," says Walker, " which most writers of blank verse have of extending the sense beyond the line, is followed by a similar affectation in the printer, who will often omit a pause at the end of a line in a verse, when he would have inserted one in prose ; and this affectation is still carried farther by the reader, who will run the sense of one line into another, where there is the least oppor- tunity for doing it, in order to show that he is too sagacious, to sup- pose that there is any conclusion in the sense, because the line con- cludes." In regard to rhyme, there can be no doubt that it should be so read, as to make the end of the line quite perceptible to the ear: otherwise the correspondent sound of the final syl- lables, in which rhyme consists, would be entirely lost. 6. The vowels e and o when apostrophized in poetry, should be preserved in pronunciation. But they should be spoken in a manner so slight and accelerated, as easily to coalesce with the following syllable. — As ; But of the two, less dar^'rous is th' offence. Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms. GESTURE. 67 CHAPTER VII. GESTURE. Though the chief object of this book, is to regulate the voice, in reading and speaking, a few remarks on gesture, may be useful to those members of academies, and higher schools, who wish to acquire proper habits in exercises of declamation. These remarks I shall introduce, with a very brief view of some faults, not uncommon, as to management of countenance and attitude, in a speaker. The eye is the only part of the face, that it falls within my design to notice here, both because this is the chief seat of ex- pression, and because its significance is especially liable to be frustrated by mismanagement. The intercourse of soul, between speaker and hearers, is carried on more unequivo- cally through the eye, than in any other way. But if he neglects to look at them, and they in return neglect, (as they commonly will,) to look at him; the mutual reaction of feel- ing through the countenance is lost; and vocal language is all the medium of intercourse that remains. The eye " bent on vacuity," as the artists call it, is the next most common defect, of this sort. The glass eye of a wax figure at once tells its own character. There may be, in other respects, the proportion and complexion of a human face; but that eye, the moment it is examined, you perceive is nothing more, and, at best, it can be nothing more than a bungling counterfeit. So the eye of a speaker maybe open, and yet not see ; at least there may be no discrimination, no meaning in its look. It does not look at anything. There is in its expression, a generality, a vacuity, so to speak, that expresses nothing. To the same class belongs that indefinite sweep of the eye, which passes from one side to another 68 GESTURE. of an assembly, resting nowhere; and that tremulous, waving cast of the eye, and winking of the eyelid, which is in direct contrast to an open, collected, manly expression of the face. So fatal are these faults to the impression of delivery that oo much care cannot be taken to avoid them. Attitude I use, not in the theatrical sense of the word, (for this has no concern with oratory,) but as denoting the general positions of the body, which are becoming or other- wise, in a speaker. In some few instances, I have observed the head to be kept so erect, as to give the air of haughti- ness. In others, it is dropped so low, that the man seems to be carelessly surveying his own person. In others, it is re- clined towards one shoulder, so as to give the appearance of languor or indolence. As to the degree of motion that is proper for the body, it may be safely said, that while the fixedness of a post is an exl.eme, all violent tossing of the body from side to side, rising on the toes, or writhing of the shoulders and limbs, are not less unseemly. The remarks which come next to be made on gesture, are more various. One principal fault which I have noticed in this, is want of appropriateness. By this I mean that it is not sufficiently adapted to circumstances. An address to an assembly of common men, admits a boldness of action, that would be un- seemly in one delivered to a prince. More vivacity and variety 4s admissible in the action of a young speaker, than of one who is aged ; and the same boldness of manner which is proper when the orator is kindled to a glowing fervour, in the close of a discourse, would be out of place at its commencement. Yet the same action is used by some speakers, in the exordium, as in the conclusion ; in cool argument to the understanding, as in impassioned appeals to the heart Good sense will lead a GESTURE. 69 man, as Gtuintilfan says, " To act as well as to speak in a different manner, to different persons, at different times and on different subjects." Nearly of the same class is another kind of faults arising from want of discrimination. Of this sort is that puerile imitation which consists in acting words, instead of thoughts. The declaimer can never utter the word heart, without laying his hand on his breast; nor speak of God or heaven, in the most incidental manner, without directing his eye, and his gesture upwards. Let the same principle be carried out, in repeating the prophet's description of true fasting ; " It is not for a man to bow down his head as a bul- rush," &c. — and every one would see that, to conform the gesture to the words, is but childish mimicry. There is no case in which this want of discrimination oftener occurs, than in a class of words denoting sometimes numerical, and sometimes local extent, accompanied by the spreading of both hands ; the significance of this gesture being destroyed by misapplication. The following exam- ples may illustrate my meaning. Exam. 1. " The goodness of God is the source of all our blessings." The declaimer, when he utters the word God, raises his eye and his right hand ; and when he utters the word all, extends both hands. Now the latter action con founds two things, that are very distinct, number and space. When I recount all the blessings of my life, they are very many ; but why should I spread my hands, to denote a mul- tiplicity that is merely numerical and successive? when the thought has no concern with local dimensions, any more than in this case : " All the days of Methusaleh were nine hundred and sixty-nine years." Exam,. 2. "All the actions of our lives, will be brought into judo-emerjt." Here again, the thought is that of arith- metical succession, not of local extent ; and if any gesture is demanded, it is not the spreading of both hands. 70 GESTURE. Exam. 3. " I bring you glad tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." Here the local extent which be- longs to the thought, is properly expressed by action of both hands. If there is language in action, it requires propriety and precision. The indiscriminate movement of the hands sig- nifies nothing. Want of emphasis in this language is a great, but common fault. When the speaker, however, has an emphatic stroke of the hand, its effect is lost, if that stroke does not accompany the emphasis of the voice ; that is, if it falls one syllable after the stress of voice, or if it is disproportionate in force to that stress, in the same degree, its mecning is impaired. The direction of the hand too, in which the emphatic stroke terminates, is significant. The elevated termination suits high passion ; the horizon- tal, decision ; the downward, disapprobation. And any of these may denote definitive designation of particular ob- jects. Another fault of action is excess. In some cases it is too constant. To enter on a discourse with passionate excla- mations and high wrought figures, while the speaker and audience are both cool, is not more absurd than to begin with continual gesticulation. Neman probably D ,ver carried the language of action to so high a pitch as Garn .k. Yet Dr. Gregory says of this great dramatic speaker; " He used less action, than any performer I ever saw ; but his action always had meaning; it always spoke. By being less than that of other actors, it had the greater force." But if constant ac- tion has too much levity, even for the stage, what shall we say of that man's taste, who, in speaking on a subject of se- rious importance, can scarcely utter a sentence without ex- tending his hands % " Ne quid nimis."* * Fenelon says, — " Some time ago, I happened to fall asleep at a sermon ; and when I awaked, the preacher was in a very violent agitation, so that I fancied at first, he was pressing some important GESTURE. 71 But gesture may be not merely too much ; — it may be too violent. Such are the habits of some men, that they can never raise the hand, without stretching the arm at full length above the head, or in a horizontal sweep; or drawing it back, as if in the attitude of prostrating some giant at a stroke. But such a man seems to forget that gentleness, and tranquillity, and dignity, are attributes that prevail more than violence, in real oratory. The full stroke of the hand, with- extended arm, should be reserv- ed for its own appropriate occasions. For common pur- poses, a smaller movement is sufficient, and even more expressive. The meaning of a gesture depends not on its compass. The tap of Caesars finger, was enough to awe a Senate. Gesture is often too complex. When there is want of precision, in the intellectual habits of the speaker, he adopts perhaps two or three gestures for one thought. In this way all'sinWicity is sacrificed; for though the idea is complex, an attempt to exhibit each shade of meaning, by the hand, is ridiculous. After one principal stroke, every appendage to this, commonly weakens its effect. Another fault is too great uniformity. Like periodic tones and stress of voice, the same gesture recurring con- stantly, shows want of discriminating taste. " In all things," says Cicero, " repetition is the parent of satiety." This barren sameness usually prevails, in a man's man- ner, just in proportion as it is ungraceful. Suppose, for example, that he is accustomed to raise his arm by a mo- tion from the shoulder, without bending the elbow; or that point of morality. But he was only giving notice, that on the Sun- day following, he wuuld preach upon repentance. I was extremely surprised to hear so ndifrerent a thing uttered with so much vehe- mence. The motion if the arm is proper, when the orator is very vehement; but he ou^ht not to move his arm in order to appear vehement. Nay, there are many things that ought to be pronounced calmly, and without any motion." 72 CES1URE. the elbow is bent to a right angle, and thrust outward ; or that it 'U drawn close to the side, so that The action is con- fined to the lower part of the arm and hand; or that the hand is drawn to the left, by bending the wrist so far as to give the appearance of constraint, or backwards so far as to contract the thumb and fingers ; — in all these cases, the motion is at once stiff and unvaried. The same thing is commonly true of all short, abrupt, and jerking movements. These remind you of the dry limb of a tree, forced into short and rigid vibrations by the wind ; and not of the luxuriant branch of the willow, gently and variously waving before the breeze. The action of the graceful speaker, is easy and flowing, as well as forcible. His hand describes curve lines, rather than right. or acute angles ; and when its office is finished, in any case, it drops gently down at his side, instead of being snatched away, as from the bite of a reptile. The action of young children is never deficient in grace or variety; because it- is not vitiated by diffidence, affectation, or habit. There is one more class of faults, which seems to arise from an attempt to shun such as I have just described, and which I cannot better designate, than by the phrase me- chanical variety. This is analagous to that variety of tones, which is pro- duced by an effort to be various, without regard to sense. The diversity of notes, like those of the chiming clock, re- turns periodically, but is always the same diversity. So a speaker may have several gestures, which he repeats al- ways in the same successive order. The most common form of this artificial variety consists, in the alternate use of the right hand and the left. I have seen a preacher, who aimed to avoid sameness of action, in the course oi a few sentences, extend first his right hand, then his left, and then both. This order was continued through the discpurse ; so that these three gestures, whatever might GESTURE. 7S be the sentiment, returned, with nearly periodical exactness. Now whatever variety is attained in this way, is at best but a uniform variety ; and is the more disgusting, in proportion as it is the more studied and artificial. But the question arises, does this charge always lie against the use of the left hand alone? I answer, by no means. The almost universal precepts, however, in the in- stitutes of oratory, giving precedence to the right hand, are not without reason. It has been said, indeed, that the con- finement of the left hand in holding up the robe, was originally the ground of this preference; and th t this is a reason which does not exist in modern times. But how did it happen that this service, denoting inferiority, came to be assigned to the left, rather than the right hand ? Doubtless because this accords with a general usage of men, through all time. When Joseph brought his tw r o sons to be blessed by Jacob, the patriarch signified which was the object of special benediction, by placing the right hand on his head, and the left on the head of the other. As a token of respect to his mother, Solomon gave her a seat on the right hand of his throne. In the same manner the righteous will be dis- tinguished from the wicked, in the final judgment. Through- out the Bible, the right hand is spoken cf as the emblem of honor, strength, authority, or victory. The common act of salutation is expressed by the right hand ; and hence its name dextra, from de/o^av to take, that is, by the hand ; and hence, by figure, the English word dextrous, denoting skill and agility. General custom has always given preference to the right hand, when only one is used, in the common offices of life. The sword of the warrior, the knife of the surgical operator, the pen of the author, belong to this hand. With us, to call a man left handed is to call him awkward ; and it is a curious fact that the Sandwich Islanders use the same phrase to denote ignorance or unskilfulness. To give the left hand in salu- 7 74 GESTURE. tation, denotes a familiarity and levity, never offered to a superior. To employ this in taking an oath, or in giving what is called the " right hand of fellowship," as a religious act, would be deemed rusticity or irreverent trifling. Now so long as this general usage exists, without in- quiring here into its origin, it is manifest that the left hand can never, without incongruity, assume precedence over the right, so as to perform alone the principal gesture, with the few exceptions mentioned below. To raise this hand-, for example, as' expressing authority ; or to lay it on the breast, in an appeal to conscience, would be likely to ex- cite a smile. Though it often acts with great significance, in conjunction with the right hand, the only cases, that I recollect, where it can with propriety act alone, in the prin- cipal gesture, are these : First, when the left hand is spoken of in contradistinction from the right ; " He shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on his left." Secondly, when there is local allusion to some object on the left of the speaker. For example, if his face is to the north, and he points to the setting sun, it is better perhaps to do it with his left hand, than to turn his body, so as to make it convenient to do it with his right. Thirdly, when two things are contrasted, though without local allusion, if the case requires, that the one be marked by the action of the right hand, it is often best to mark the antithetic object with the left. But I would not magnify, by dwelling on it, a question of so small moment. It would have been despatched in a sentence or two, had it not seemed proper to show, that what some are disposed to call an arbitrary and groundless precept of ancient rhetoric, has its foundation in a general and instinctive feeling of propriety. Still I would say, that when a departure from this precept results, not from affec- tation, but from emotion, it is far better than any minute observance of propriety, which arises from a coldly correct and artificial habit. GESTURE. 75 In finishing this chapter, the general remark may De made, as applying to action, and indeed to the whole sub- ject of delivery, that many smaller blemishes are scarcely observed in a speaker, who is deeply interested in his sub- ject ; while the affectation of excellence, is never excused by judicious hearers. To be a first-rate orator, requires a combination of powers which few men possess: and no means of cultivation can ever confer these highest requi- sites for eloquence, on public speakers generally. But nei ther is it necessary to eminent usefulness, that these requi- sites should be possessed by all. Any man, who has good sense, and a warm heart, if his faculties for elocution are not essentially defective, and if he is patient and faithful in the discipline of these faculties, may render himself an agreeable and impressive speaker. EXERCISES. PART I. Preparatory Remarks. The selections in Part I. of these Exercises, are designed especially to exemplify the principles of rhetorical delivery, as laid down in the foregoing pages. These principles are the same as those contained in my Analysis, only thrown into a more brief and simple form, for a younger class of readers, than were contemplated in that work. I see no reason to change the original plan, of giving one series of exercises, with a rhetorical notation, throughout; and another series of miscellaneous pieces, in which such a notation is but partially applied. These Exercises of the first part, are much the same as those of the Analysis, chiefly because the examples were selected, with great expense of time, from the whole com- pass of English literature ; and because it is not easy to make another selection, so well adapted to the various prin- ciples to be illustrated. In using the Exercises of Part I the student may be assisted by the following remarks. 1. At the head of each exercise, on the left hand, the page is noted, where the principle is contained, which the examples are intended to illustrate. 2. Under the several heads, a rhetorical notation, ac- cording to the Key given at the beginning, is so applied as PREPARATORY REMARKS. 77 to designate inflection, emphasis, and towards the close, modulation. When emphatic stress is but moderate, it is often distinguished only by the mark of inflection ; when the stress amounts to decided emphasis, it is denoted by the Italic type; and sometimes, when strongly intensive, by small capitals. In examples taken from the Scriptures, Italic words are used not as in the English Bible, but solely to express emphasis. 3. In applying a rhetorical notation so as most fully to exnibit sentiment and emotion, there is often room for diver- sity of taste. Any amendments, in this respect, which may be suggested by Teachers or others will be gratefully re- ceived. 4. They who use these Exercises should be aware that examples, which apply exclusively to a single principle of elocution, are commonly very short. When longer ones are chosen, including other principles, besides the one es- pecially in view, it will still be apparent from the notation, what is the point chiefly to be regarded. 5. Before attempting to read any Exercise, the principle intended to be illustrated should be well examined by the pupil. Especially under the head of Modulation, no example expressive of passion, should be read without being studied beforehand, EXERCISES ON ARTICULATION* Exercise 1. Page 24. Difficult articulation from immediate succession of the same or similar sounds. 1. The youth hates s/udy. 2. The wild beasts draggled through the vale. S. The steadfast stranger in the forests s/rayed. 4. It was the fines/ street of the city. 5. When Ajaz drives some rock's vast weight to throw. 6. It was the severed storm of the season, but the masts stood through the gale. 7. That lasts /ill night. > Thtt Ust sritt night. \ 8. He can debate on either side of the question. ) He can debate on either side of the question. ) 9. Who ever imagined such an ocean to exist : l Who ever imagined such a notion to exi ist ? ) st? \ Page 25. Difficult succession of consonants with remote accent. 1. Fie has taken leave of terrestrial trials and enjoy- ments, and is laid in the grave, the common receptacle and home of mortals. 2. Though this barbarous chief received us very cour- teously, and spoke to us very communicatively at the first interview, we soon lost our confidence in the disinterested- ness of his motives. 3. Though there could be no doubt as to the reason- ableness of our request, yet he saw fit peremptorily to refuse it, and authoritatively to require that we should depart from the country. As no alternative was left us, we unhesitatingly prepared to obey this arbitrary mandate. EXERCISES OX INFLECTION. Exercise 2. Page 29. The disjunctive (or) has the rising inflection he^or* 1 , and the falling after it. 1. Then said Jesus unto them, I will ask you one thing; Ex. 2.J EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 79 Is it lawful on the sabbath-days to do good, or to do evil? to save life, or to destroy it ? 2. Whether we are hurt by a mad or a blind man, the pain is still the same. And with regard to those who are undone, it avails little whether it be by a man who deceives them, or by one who is himself deceived. 3. Has God forsaken the works of his own hands? or does he always graciously preserve, and keep and guide them? 4. Therefore, O ye judges! you are now to consider, whether it is more probable that the deceased was murder- ed by the man who inherits his estate, or by him who in- herits nothing but beggary by the same death. By the man who was raised from penury to plenty, or by him who was brought from happiness to misery. By him, whom the lust of lucre has inflamed with the most inveterate hatred against his own relations; or by him, whose life was such, that he never knew what gain was, but from the product of his own labors. By him who of all dealers in the trade of blood, was the most audacious; or by him who was so little ac- customed to the forum and trials, that he dreads not only the benches of a court, but the very town. In short, ye judges, what I think most to this point is, you are to con- sider whether it is most likely that an enemy, or a son, would be guilty of this murder. 5. As for the particular occasion of these (charity) schools, there cannct any offer, more worthy a generous mind. Would you do a handsome thing without return? — do it for an infant that is not sensible of the obligation.* Would you doit for the public good? — do it for one who will be an honest artificer. Would you do it for the sake of heaven? give it for one who shall be instructed in the worship of Him, for whose sake you gave it. Exercise 3. Page 29. The direct question, or that which admits the answers yes or no, has the rising inflection, and the answer has the falling. 1. Will the Lord cast off for ever? and will he be fa- vorable no more? Is his mercy clean gone for ever? doth * Disjunctive or is understood. 80 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. [Ex. 3. his promise fail for evermore? Hath God forgotten to be gracious? hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies? 2. Is not this the carpenter's son? is not his mother called Mary? and his brethren, James, and Joses, and Si- mon, and Judas? and his sisters, are they not all with us? 3. Are we intended for actors in the grand drama of eternity? Are we candidates for the plaudit of the rational creation? Are we formed to participate the supreme be- atitude in communicating happiness? Are we destined to co-operate with God in advancing the order and perfection of his works ? How sublime a creature then is man ! The following are examples of both question and answer. 4. Who are the persons that are most apt to fall into peevishness and dejection — that are continually complain- ing of the world, and see nothing but wretchedness around them ? Are they those whom want compels to toil for their daily bread? — who have no treasure but the labor of their hands — who rise, with the rising sun, to expose themselves to all the rigors of the seasons, unsheltered from the win- ter's cold, and unsJ adec" from the summer's heat? No. The labors of such are the very blessings of their condition. 5. What, then, what was Caesar's object ? Do we se- lect extortioners, to enforce the laws of equity? Do we make choice of profligates, to guard the morals of society ? Do we depute atheists, to preside over the rites of religion? I will not press the answer: I need not press the answer; the premises of my argument render it unnecessary. — What would content you ? Talent ? No ! Enterprise ? No ! Courage? No! Reputation? No! Virtue? No! The men whom you would select, should possess, not one, but all, of these. 6. Can the truth be discovered when the slaves of the prosecutor are brought as witnesses against the person accused ? Let us hear now what kind of an examination this was. Call in Ruscio : Call in Casca. Did Clodius way-lay Milo? He did: Drag them instantly to execution. — He did not: Let them have their liberty. What can be more satisfactory than this method of examination ? 7. Are you desirous that your talents and abilities may procure you respect? Display them not ostentatiously to public view. W T ould you escape the envy which your rich- Ex. 3, 4j EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 81 es might excite ? Let them not minister to pride, but adorn them with humility. — There is not an evil incident to hu- man nature for which the gospel doth not provide a remedy. Are you ignorant of many things which it highly concerns you to know ? The gospel offers you instruction. Have you deviated from the path of duty ? The gospel offers you forgiveness. Do temptations surround you? The gospel offers you the aid of heaven. Are you exposed to misery? It consoles you. Are you subject to death? It offers you immortality. Page 29, Note 1. When (or) is used conjunctively, it has the same inflection before and after it. In some sentences the disjunctive and the conjuctive use of or, are so intermingled as to require careful attention to distinguish them. 1. Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow? or will he harrow the valleys after thee? Wilt thou trust him because his strength is great ? or wilt thou leave thy labor to him ? Gavest thou the goodly wings unto the peacocks? or wings and featners unto the ostrich? Canst thou draw out leviathan with a hook ? or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down? Canst thou put a hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn? Wilt thou play with him as with a bird ; or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens? Canst thou fill his skin with' barbed irons? or his head with fish spears? 2. But should these credulous infidels after all be in the right, and this pretended revelation be all a fable; from believing it what harm could ensue? would it render prin- ces more tyrannical, or subjects more ungovernable, the rich more insolent, or the poor more disorderly? Would it make worse parents or children, husbands, or wives ; masters, or servants, friends, or neighbors? or* would it not make men more virtuous, and, consequently, more hap- py, in every situation. Exercise 4. Page 30. Negation opposed to affirmation. I. True charity is not a meteor, which occasionally * The last or is disjunctive. 82 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. [L\. 4. glares ; but a luminary, which, in its orderly and regxilar course, dispenses a benignant influence. 2. Think not, that the influence of devotion is uon fined to the retirement of the closet, and the assemblies of the saints. Imagine not, that, unconnected with the duties ot life, it is suited only to those enraptured souls, whose feel- ings, perhaps, you deride as romantic and visionarv. It is the guardian of innocence — it is the instrument of virtue — it is a mean by which every good affection may be formed and improved. 3. Caesar, who would not wait the conclusion of the consul's speech, generously replied, that he came into Italy not to injure the liberties of Rome and its citizens, but to restore them. 4. If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: and he is the propitiation for our sins ; and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world. 5. These things I say now, not to insult one w^ho is fallen, but to render more secure those who stand ; not to irritate the hearts of the wounded, but to preserve those who are not yet wounded, in sound health; not to sub- merge him who is tossed on the billows, but to instruct those sailing before a propitious breeze, that they may not be plunged beneath the waves. 6. But this is no time for a tribunal of justice, but for showing mercy; not for accusation, but for philanthropy; not for trial, but for pardon ; not for sentence and execu- tion, but compassion and kindness. Comparison and contrast belong to the same head. 1. By honor and dishonor, by evil report and good re- port; as deceivers, and yet true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold we live; as chastened, and not killed ; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possess- ing all things. Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers ; for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? and what concord hath Christ with Belial ? or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel ? Ex. 5.] EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 83 A wise man feareth, and departeth from evil ; but the fool rageth, and is confident. The wicked is driven away in his wickedness; but the righteous hath hope in his death. Righteousness exalteth a nation ; but sin is a reproach to any people. The king's favor is toward a wise servant; but his wrath is against him that causeth shame. 2. Between fame and true honor a distinction is to be made. The former is a blind and noisy applause : the latter a more silent and internal homage. Fame floats on the breath of the multitude: honor rests on the judgement of the thinking. Fame may-give praise, while it withholds esteem ; true honor implies esteem, mingled with respect. The one regards particular distinguished talents: the other looks up to the whole character. 3. Europe was one great field of battle, where the weak struggled for freedom, and the strong for dominion. The king was without power, and the nobles without principle. They were tyrants at home, and robbers abroad. Nothing remained to be a check upon ferocity and violence. 4. The power of delicacy is chiefly seen in discerning the true merit of a work ; the power of correctness, in re- jecting false pretensions to merit. Delicacy leans more to feeling : correctness more to reason and judgement. The former is more the gift of nature; the latter, more the pro- duct of culture and art. Among the ancient critics, Lon- ginus possessed most delicacy; Aristotle most correctness. Among the moderns, Mr. Addison is a high example of delicate taste; Dean Swift, had he written on the subject of criticism, would perhaps have afforded the example of a correct one. 5. Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil the better artist : in the one, we most admire the man ; in the other, the work. Homer hurries us with a commanding impetuosity; Virgil lends us with an attractive majesty. Homer scatters with a generous profusion ; Virgil bestows with a careful magnificence Homer, like the Nile, pours out his riches with a sudden overflow; Virgil, like a river in its banks, with a constant stream. — And when we look upon their ma- chines, Homer seems, like his own Jupiter in his terrors, shaking Olympus, scattering the lightnings, and firing the heavens; Virgil, like the same power in his benevolence, counselling with the gods, laying plans for empires, and or- dering his whole creation. 84 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. |Ex. 4, 5. 6. Dryden knew mire of man in his general nature, and Pope ir. his local manners. The notions of Dryden were formed by comprehensive speculation, those of Pope by minute attention. The style of Dryden is capricious and varied; that ot Pope is cautious and uniform. Dryden obeys the motions ot his own mind; Pope constrains his mind to his own rules of composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and rapid ; Pope is always smooth, uniform, and gentle. Dryden's page is a natural field, rising into inequalities, and diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetation ; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by the scythe, and levelled by the roller. If the flights of Dryden are higher, Pope continues longer on the wing. If of Dryden's fire, the blaze is brighter ; of Pope's the heat is more regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation, and Pope never falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight. 7. Never before were so many opposing interests, pas- sions, and principles, committed to such a decision. On one side an attachment to the ancient order of things, on the other a passionate desire of change; a wish in some to perpetuate, in others to destroy every thing; every abuse sacred in the eyes of the former, every foundation attempt- ed to be demolished by tht, latter ; a jealousy of power shrinking from the slightest innovation, pretensions to free- dom pushed to madness and anarchy ; superstition in all its dotage, impiety in all its fury. Exercise 5. Page 31. The pause of suspension requires the rising bCiae. Several kinds of sentences are classed under this rule, in the body of the work ; but as the principle is the same in all, no distinction is necessary in the Exercises. 1. For if God spared not the angels that sinned, but cast them down to hell, and delivered them into chains of darkness, to be reserved unto judgement; and spared not the old world, but saved Noah t^ i eighth person, a preacher of righteousness, bringing in the flood upon the world of the ungodly; and tinning the cities of Sodom and Gomor- rah into ashes, condemned them with an overthrow, mak- Ex. 5.] EXERCISES OF INFLECTION. 85 ing them an ensample unto those that after should liye un- godly ; And delivered just Lot, vexed with the filthy con- versation of the wicked : (For that righteous man dwelling among them, in seeing and hearing, vexed his righteous soul from day to day with their unlawful deeds;) The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptations, and to reserve the unjust unto the day of judgement to be punished. 2. If reason teaches the learned, necessity the barbarian, common custom all nations in general ; and if even nature itself instructs the brutes to defend their bodies, limbs, and lives, when attacked, by all possible methods ; you cannot pronounce this action criminal, without determining at the same time that whoever falls into the hands of a highway- man, must of necessity perish either by his sword or your decisions. Had Milo been of this opinion, he would cer- tainly have chosen to fall by the hands of Clodius, who had more than once, before this, made an attemp: upon his life, rather than be executed by your order, because he had not tamely yielded himself a victim to his rage. But if none of you are of this opinion, the proper question is, not wheth- er Clodius was killed 1 for that we grant: but whether just- ly or unjustly? an inquiry of which many precedents are to be found. 3. Seeing then that the soul has many different faculties, or in other words, many different ways of acting; that it can be intensely pleased or made happy by all these_d lifer- ent faculties, or ways of acting ; that it may be endowed with several latent faculties, w 7 hch it is not at present in a condition to exert ; that we cannot believe the soul is en- dowed with any faculty which is of no use to it; that when- ever any one of these faculties is transcendently pleased, the soul is in a state of happiness; and in the last place, considering that the happiness of another world is to be the happiness of the whole man; who can question but that there is an infinite variety in those pleasures w r e are speak- ing of; and that this fulness of joy will be made up of all those pleasures which the nature of the soul is capable of receiving. 4. When the gay and smiling aspect of things has be- gun to leave the passages to a man's heart thus thoughtlessly unguarded; when kind and caressing looks of every object without, that can flatter his senses, has conspired with the enemy within, to betray him and put him off his defence: 8 86 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. [Ex. 5. when music likewise hath lent her aid, and tried her power upon the passions; when the voice of singing men, and the voice of singing women, with the sound of the viol and the mte, have broken in upon his soul, and in some tender notes have touched the secret springs of rapture, — that mo- ment let us dissect and look into his heart ; — see how vain, how weak, hoAV empty a thing it is ! 5. Beside the ignorance of masters who teach the first rudiments of reading, and the want of skill, or negligence in that article, of those who teach the learned languages ; be- side the erroneous manner, which the untutored pupils fall into, through the want of early attention in masters, to cor- rect small faults in the beginning, which increase and gain strength with years : beside bad habits contracted from imi- tation of particular persons, or the contagion of example, from a general prevalence of a certain tone or chant in read- ing or reciting, peculiar to each school, and regularly trans- mitted, from one generation of boys to another: beside all these which are fruitful sources of vicious elocution, there is one fundamental error, in the method universally used in teaching to read, which at first gives a wrong bias, and leads us ever after blindfold from the right path, under the guidance of a false rule. 6. A guilty or a discontented mind, a mind, ruffled by ill fortune, disconcerted by its own passions, soured by ne- glect, or fretting at disappointments, hath not leisure to attend to the necessity or reasonableness of a kindness de- sired, nor a taste for those pleasures which wait on benefi- cence, which demand a calm and unpolluted heart to relish them. 7. "I perfectly remember, that when Calidius prose- cuted Q,. Gallius for an attempt to poison him, and pretend- ed that he had the plainest proofs of it, and could produce many letters, witnesses, informations, and other evidences to put the truth of his charge beyond a doubt, interspersing many sensible and ingenious remarks on the nature of the srime ; 1 remember," says Cicero, " that when it came to vny turn to reply to him, after urging every argument which die case itself suggested, I insisted upon it as a material cir- cumstance in favor of my client, that the prosecutor, while tie charged him with a design against his life, and assured us that he had the most indubitable proofs of it then in his hands, related his story with as much ease, and as much Ex. 5.] EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 87 calmness and indifference, as if nothing had happened." — " Would it have been possible," exclaimed Cicero, (ad- dressing himself to Calidius,) "that you should speak with this air of unconcern, unless the charge was purely an in vention of your own? — and, above all, that you, whose elo- quence has often vindicated the wrongs of other people with so much spirit, should speak so coolly of a crime which threatened your life?" 8. To acquire a thorough knowledge of our own hearts and characters, to restrain every irregular inclination, — to subdue every rebellious passion, — to purify the motives of our conduct, — rto form ourselves to that temperance which no pleasure can seduce, — to that meekness which no pro- vocation can ruffle, — to that patience which no affliction can overwhelm, and that integrity which no interest can shake; this is the task which is assigned to us, — a task which cannot be performed without the utmost diligence and care. 9. The beauty of a plain, the greatness of a mountain, the ornaments of a building, the expression of a picture, the composition oj" a discourse, the conduct of a third per- son, the proportion of different quantities and numbers, the various appearances .which the great machine of the uni- verse is perpetually exhibiting, the secret wheels and springs which produce them, all the general subjects of science and taste, are what we and our companions regard as having no peculiar relation to either of us. 10. Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, View him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, And hate for arts that caus'd himself to rise ; 5 Damn with faint praise, absent with civil leer, And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fau ] t, and hesitate dislike; Alike reserv'd to blame, or to commend, 10 A tim'rous foe, and a suspicious friend, Dreading even fools, by Flatterers besieg'd, And so obliging, that he ne'er oblig'd ; Like Cato, give his little senate laws, And sit attentive to his own applause ; 15 While Wits and Templars every sentence raise, And wonder with a foolish face of praise — 88 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. [Ex. 5, 6. Who but must laugh, if such a man there be ? Who would not weep, if Atti'cus were he ! 11. For these reasons, the senate and people of Athens, (with due veneration to the gods and heroes, and guardians of the Athenian city and territory, whose aid they now im- plore ; and with due attention to the virtue of their ances- tors, to whom the general liberty of Greece was ever dearer than the particular interest of their own state,) have resolved that a fleet of two hundred vessels shall be sent to sea, the admiral to cruise within the straits of Thermopylae. As to my own abilities in speaking, (for I shall admit this charge, although experience hath convinced me, that what is called the power of eloquence depends for the most part upon the hearers, and that the characters of public speakers are determined by that degree of favor which you vouchsafe to each,) if long practice, I say, hath given me any proficiency in speaking, you have ever found it devoted to my country.* Of the various exceptions which fall under the rule of suspending inflection, the only one which needs additional exemplification, is that, where emphasis requires the intensive falling slide, to express the true sense. See pp. 32 &43. In some cases of this sort, the omis- sion of the falling slide only weakens the meaning ; in others it sub- verts it. 1. If the population of this country were to remain station- ary, a great increase of effort would be necessary to supply each family with a Bible ; but how much' when this popula- tion is increasing every day. 2. The man who cherishes a strong ambition for prefer- ment, if he does not fall into adulation and servility, is in danger of loosing all manly independence. 3. For if the mighty works which have been in thee had been done in Sodom,] it would have remained unto this day. Exercise 6. Page 32. Tender emotion inclines the voice to the rising slide 1. And when Joseph came home, they brought him the * T have not thought it necessary to give examples of the cases in which emphasis requires the falling slide at the close of a parenthesis. t Even in Sodom, is the paraphrase of this emphasis, and so in the wo preceding examples. Ex. 6.] EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 89, present which was in their hand, into the house, and bowed themselves to him, to the earth. And he asked them of their welfare, and said, Is your father well, the old man of whom ye spake? Is he yet alive? — And they answered, Thy servant our father is in good health, he is yet alive: and they bowed down their heads, and made obeisance. — And he lifted up his eyes, and saw his brother Benjamin, his mother s son, and said, Is this your younger brother, of whom ye spake unto me! And he said, God be gracious unto thee, my son. And Joseph made haste ; — for his bow- els did yearn upon his brother: and he sought where to weep ; and he entered into his chamber, and wept there. 2. Methinks I see a fair and lovely child, Sitting compos' d upon his mother's knee,- And reading with a low and lisping voice Some passage from the Sabbath ;* while the tears 5 Stand in his little eyes so softly blue, Till, quite o'ercome with pity, his Avhite arms He twines around her neck, and hides his sighs Most infantine, within her gladden' d breast, Like a sweet lamb, half sportive, half afraid, 10 Nestling one moment 'neath its bleating dam; And now r the happy mother kisses oft The tender-hearted child, lays down the book, And asks him if he doth remember still A str?nger who once gave him, long ago, 15 A parting kiss, and blest his laughing eyes! His sobs speak fond remembrance, and he weeps To think so kind and-good a man should die. 3. Ye who have anxiously and fondly watched Beside a fading friend, unconscious that The cheek's uright crimson, lovely to the view, Like nightshade with unwholesome beauty bloomed, And that the sufferer's bright dilated eye, Like mouldering wood, owes to decay alone Its wondrous lustre: — ye who still have hoped, Even in death's dread presence, but at length Have heard the summons, (O heart-freezing call!) * Sabbath, — a poem. 8* 90 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. [Ex. 6, 7. 10 To pay the last sad duties, and to hear Upon the silent dwelling's narro.v lid The first earth thrown, (sound deadliest to the soul! — For, strange delusion ! then, and then, alone, Hope seems for ever fled, and the dread pang 15 Of final separation to begin) — Ye who have felt all this — O pay my verse The mournful meed of sympathy, and own, Own with a sigh, the sombre picture's just. Exercise 7. Page 33. The indirect question and its answer have the falling inflection. _ „ The interrogative mark is here inverted, to render it significant of its office, in distinction from the direct question, which turns the voice upward. 1. The governor answered and said unto them, Whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you i They said, Barabbas. Pilate said unto them, What shall I do then with Jesus, which is called Christ i They all say unto him, Let him be crucified. And the governor said, Why i what evil hath he done i But they cried out the more, saying, Let him be crucified. 2. Where now is the splendid robe of the consulate i Where are the brilliant torches i Where are the applauses and dances, the feasts and entertainments j Where are the coronets and canopies i Where the huzzas of the city, the compliments of the circus, and the flattering acclamations of the spectators i All these have perished. 3. I hold it to be an unquestionable position, that they who duly appreciate the blessings of liberty, revolt as much from the idea of exercising, as from that of enduring, oppres- sion. How far this was the case with the Romans, you may inquire of those nations that surrounded them. Ask them, * What insolent guard paraded before their gates, and invest- ed their strong holds i ' They will answer, ' A Roman le- gionary.' Demand of them, • What greedy extortioner fat- tened by their poverty, and clothed himself by their naked ness^ Tbey will inform you, * A Roman Quaestor.' In- quire of them, ' What imperious stranger issued to them his Ex. 7.] EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 91 mandates of imprisonment or confiscation, of banishment or death £ They will reply to you, c A Roman Consul.' ' Ques- tion them, ' What haughty conqueror led through his city, their nobles and kings in chains; and exhibited their coun- trymen, by thousands, in gladiators' shows for the amuse- ment of his fellow citizens £ They will tell you : ' A Ro- man General.' Require of them. ' What tyrants imposed the heaviest yoke i — enforced the most rigorous exactions i — inflicted the most savage punishments, and showed the greatest gust for blood and torture j' They will exclaim to you, ' The Roman people.' 4. Let us now consider the principal point, whether the place where they encountered was most favorable to Milo, or to Clodius. Were the affair to be represented , only by painting, instead of being expressed by words, it would even then clearly appear which was the traitor, and which was free from all mischievous designs: When the one was sit- ting in his chariot, muffled up in his cloak, and his wife along with him ; which of these circumstances was not a very great incumbrance { the dress, the chariot, or the com- panion i How could he be worse equipped for engagement, when he was wrapped up in a cloak, embarrassed with a chariot, and almost fettered by his wife i Observe the other now, in the first place, sallying out on a sudden from his seat ; for w r hat reason j — in the evening ; what urged him i — late; to what purpose, especially at that season i — He calls at Pom- pey's seat, with what view i To see Pompey ? He knew he was at Alsium. — To see his house? He had been in it a thousand times — What then could be the reason of this loitering and shifting about i He wanted to be upon the spot when Milo came up. 5. Wherefore cease we then i Say they who counsel war, we are decreed, Reserved, and destined to eternal woe ; Whatever doing, what can we suffer more, 5 What can we suffer worse i Is this then worst, Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms? What! when we fled amain, pursued and struck With heav'n's afflicting thunder, and besought The deep to shelter us — this Hell then seem'd 10 A refuge from those wounds: or when we lay 92 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. [Ex. 7, 8. Chain'd on the burning lake, — that sure was worse. What, if the breath, that kindled those grim fires, Awak'd, should blow them into sev'nfold rage, And plunge us in the flames i or from above 15 Should intermitted vengeance arm again His red right-hand to plague us i what if all Her stores were open'd, and this firmament Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall 20 One day upon our heads ; while we perhaps, Designing or exhorting glorious war, Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurl'd, Each on his rock transfix' d, the sport and prey Of wracking whirlwinds; or forever sunk 25 Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains ; There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unrepriev'd, Ages of hopeless end ! This would be wore. Milton. 6. But, first, whom shall we send In search of the new w r orld i whom shall we find Sufficient £ who shall tempt with wand'ring feet The dark unbottom'd infinite abyss, 5 And through the palpable obrcure find out His uncouth way, or spread his airy flight, Upborne with indefatigable wings, Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive The happy isle % what strength, what art, can then 10 Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe Through the strict senteries and stations thick Of Angels watching round i Here he had need All circumspection, and we now no less Choice in our suffrage; for on whom we send, 15 The weight of all, and our last h£pe, relies. Milton. Exercise 8. Page 34. Language of authority, of surprise, and of dis- tress, com,monly requires the falling inflection. Denuncia- tion, reprehension, fyc. come under this head. 1. Go to the ant, thou sluggard ; consider her ways, and Ex. 8.] EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 93 be wise : — which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, pro- videth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest. How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard 1 when wilt thou arise out of thy sleep? — Yet a little sleep, a liuie slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep : — So shall thy poverty come as one that traveleth, and thy want as an arm- ed man. 2. And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man that had not on a wedding-garment : — And he saith unto him, friend, how earnest thou in hither, not hav ing a wedding-garment % And he was speechless. — Then said the king to the servants, bind him, hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness : there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 3. Then he which had received the one talent came, and said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art a hard man, reap- ing where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strewed: — And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the earth : lo there thou hast that is thine. — His lord answered and said unto him, thou wicked and slothful servant, — thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not,* and gather where I have not strewed : — Thou oughtest therefore to have put my money to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should have received my own with usury. Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten talents. — And case ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 4. Then began he to upbraid the cities wherein most of his mighty works were done, because they repented not. — Wo unto thee, Chorazin ! wo unto thee Bethsaida ! for if *he mighty works w T hich were done in you, had been done in Tyre and Sidon, f they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. — But I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgement than for you. And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shall be brought down to hell : for if the mighty works which have been done in thee, had been done in * This clause uttered with a high note and the falling slide, ex- presses censure better with the common punctuation, than if it were marked with the interrogation. t Even in Tyre and Sidon, is the paraphrase of the emphasis. 94 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. [Ex. 8 Sbdom it would have remained until this day. — But I say unto you, That it shall be more tolerable for the land of So- dom in the day of judgement, than for thee. 5. Such, sir, was once the disposition of a people, who now surround your throne with reproaches and complaints. Dc justice to yourself. Banish from your mind those un- worthy opinions, with which some interested persons have labored to possess you. Distrust the men who tell you that the English are naturally light and inconstant; that they complain without a cause. Withdraw your confidence equally from all parties; from ministers, favorites, and relations; anJ let there be one moment in your life, in which you have con- sulted your own understanding. 6. You have done that, you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats; For I am arm'd so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind, 5 Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me, — For I can raise no money by vile means ; 1 had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring 10 From the hard hands of peasants' their vile trash, By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me : V\ r as that done like Cassius ? Should / have answer" d Caius Cassius so? 15 When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends * Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts, Dash him to pieces ! Shakspeare. 7. The war, that for a space did fail, Now trebly thundering swell'd the gale, And — Stanley ! was the cry ; — ' A light on Mar m ion's visage spread, And fired his glazing eye : * The reader will observe, that the notation is more various, as the examples become longer, including more variety of rhetorical prin- ciples. Ex. 8] EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 95 With dying hand, above his head, He shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted — " Victory ! Charge, Chester, Charge! on, Stanly, on /" Were the last words of Marmion ! 8. So judge thou still, presumptuous ! — till the wrath Which thou incurr'st by flying, meet thy flight. Sev'nfold, and scourge that wisdom back to Hell, Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain 5 Can equal anger infinite provok'd But wherefore thou aloAe ? wherefore with thee Came not all Hell broke loose % is pain to them Less pain, less to be fled ? or thou than they Less hardy to endure? Courageous Chief! 10 The first in flight from pain ! — hadst thou alleged To thy deserted host this cause of flight, Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive, Milton. 9. To whom the warrior Angel soon reply 1 d. To say, and straight unsay, pretending first Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, Argues no leader, but a liar, trac'd, 5 Satan ! — and could' ?t thou faithful add? O name, O sacred name of faithfulness profan'd ! Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew? Army of Fiends ! — fit body to fit head ! Was this your discipline and faith engag'd, 10 Your military obedience, to dissolve Allegiance to th' acknowledged Pow'r supreme? And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem Patron of liberty, who move than thou Once fawn'd, and cring'd, and servilely ador'd 15 Heav'n's awful Monarch? wherefore, but in hope To disposses him, and thyself to reign. But mark what I arreed thee now ; — A vaunt : Fly thither whence thou fled'st : if from this hour, Within these hallow'd limits thou appear, 20 Back to th' infernal pi! I drag thee chained. And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn The facile gates of Hell, too slightly barr'd. Milton. 96 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. [Ex. 8, Apostrophe and exclamation, as well as the imperative mode, when accompanied by emphasis, incline the voice to the falling in- flection. 10. Oh ! deep enchanting prelude to repose, The dawn of bliss, the twilight of our woes! Yet half I hear the panting spirit sigh, It is a dread and awful thing to die ! 5 Mysterious worlds! untravell'd by the sun, Where Time's far wandering tide has never run, From your unfathom'd shades, and viewless spheres, A warning comes, unheard by other oars — J Tis heaven's commanding trumpet, long and loud, 10 Like Sinai's thunder, peeling from the cloud! Daughter of Faith, awake ! arise ! illume The dread unknown, the chaos of the tomb ! Melt, and dispel, ye spectre doubts, that roll Cimmerian darkness on the parting soul! 15 Fly, like the moon-eyed herald of dismay, Chased on his night-steed, by the star of day ! The strife is o'er ! — the pangs of nature close, And life's last rapture triumphs o'er her woes 1 Hark ! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze, 20 The noon of heaven, undazzled by the blaze, On heavenly winds that waft her to the sky, Float the sweet tones of star-born melody; Wild as the hallow' d anthem sent to hail Bethlehem's shepherds in the lonely vale, 25 When Jordan hush'd his waves, and midnight still Watch'd on the holy towers of Zion hill! Campbell. 11, Piety has found Friends in the Friends of science, and true prayer Has flow'd from lips wet with Castalian dews. Such was thy wisdom, Newton, child-like sage ! 5 Sagacious reader of the Works of God, And in his Word sagacious. Such too thine, Milton, whose genius had angelic wings, And fed on manna. And such thine, in whom Our British Themis gloried with just cause, 10 Immortal Hale ! for deep discernment prais'd, And sound integrity, not more, than fam'd For sanctity of manners undehTd. Ex. 8.] EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 9~ 12. These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wond'rous fair; thyself how wond'rous then! Unspeakable, Avho sitt'st above these heavms 5 To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine. Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs 10 And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Hertven, On earth, join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, 15 If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and soul, 20 Acknowledge. him thy greater, sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'si Moon, that now meet'st the orient Sun, now fly'st, With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies, 25 And ye five other wand' ring Fires, that move In mystic dance, not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run 30 Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix, And nourish all thing:-, let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud ; ancfwave your tops, ye pines, 35 With every plant, in sign of worship, wave. Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling, tune his praise. Join voices all, ye living Souls ; ye Birds, That singing, up to Heaven's gate ascend, 40 Bear on your wings, and in your notes his praise. Milton, 9 98 exercises on inflection. [ex. 9 Exercise 9. Page 35. Emphatic succession of particulars requires the falling slide. Notes 1 and 2, page 35, should be examined before reading this cl'dss of Exercises. 1. He answered and said unto him, He that soweth the good seed is the Son of man; — the field is the world; the good seed are the children of the kingdom: but the taies ire the children of the wicked one ; — the enemy that sowed \nem is the devil : the harvest is the end of the world ; and die reapers are the angels. 2. For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom ; to another, the word of knowledge, by the same Spirit ; — to another, faith, by the same Spirit; — to another, the gifts of healing, by the same Spirit ; — to another, the working of niracles ; to another, prophecy; to another, discerning of spirits ; to another, divers kinds of tongues ; — to another, ihe interpretation of tongues. 3. Holiness is ascribed to the Pope; majesty, to kings; serenity, or mildness of temper, to princes ; excellence, or perfection, to ambassadors ; grace, to archbishops ; honor, to peers; worship, or venerable behavior, to magistrates; and reverence, which is of the same import, as the former, to the inferior clergy. 4. It pleases me to think that I, who know so small a portion of the works of the Creator, and with slow and painful steps, creep jp and down on the surface of this globe, shall, ere long, shoot away with the swiftness of im- agination ; trace out the hidden springs of nature's opera- tions ; be able to keep pace with the heavenly bodies in the rapidity of their career ; be a spectator of the long chain of events in the natural and moral worlds; visit the several apartments of creation; know how they are furnished and how inhabited; comprehend the order and measure, the magnitude and distances of those orbs, which, to us, seem disposed without any regular design, and set all in the same circle ; observe the dependents of the parts of each system ; and (if our minds are big enough) grasp the theory of the several systems upon one another, from w r hence results the harmony of the universe. 5. He who cannot persuade himself to wiihdraw r from society, must be content to pay a tribute of his time to a Ex. 9, 10.] EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. 99 multitude of tyrants; to the loiterer, who makes appoint- ments he never keeps — to the consulter, who asks advice lie never takes — to the boaster, who blusters only to be praised — to the complainer, who whines only to be pitied —to the projector, whose happiness is oniy to entertain his friends with expectations, which all but himself know to be vain — to the economist, who tells of bargains and set- tlements — to the politician, who predicts the fate of battles and breach of alliances — to the usurer, who compares the different funds — and to the talker, wko talks only because ne loves talking. G. That a man, to whom he was, in great measure, be- holden for his crown, and even for his life ! a man to w r hom, by every honor and favor, he had endeavored to expres* his gratitude; whose brother, the earl of Derby, w r as his owr father-in-law ; to whom be had even committed the trust of his person, by creating him lord chamberlain ; that a mar enjoying his full confidence and affection ; not actuated by any motive of discontent or apprehension ; that this man should engage in a conspiracy against him, he deemed abso- lutely false and incredible. 7. I w r ould fain ask one of those bigoted infidels, suppos- ing all the great points of atheism, as the casual or eternal formation of the w T 6rld, the materiality of a thinking sub- stance, the mortality of the soul, the fortuitous organization of the body, the motion and gravitation of matter, with the like particulars, were laid together, and formed into a kind of creed, according to the opinions of the most celebrated atheists; I say supposing such a creed as this were formed and imposed upon any one people in the world, whether it would not require an infinitely greater measure of faith, than any set of articles which they so violently oppose. Exercise 10. h'age 36. Emphatic repetition requ ires the falling inflection , though the principle of the suspending slide, or the inter- rogative, may form an exception. 1. And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son. — And the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven, and said, Abraham, Abraham. — And he said, Here am I. 190 EXERCISES ON INFLECTION. [Ex. 10. 2. And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber of the gate, and wept : and as he went, thus he said, O my son Absalom! — my son, my son Absalom! — ■ would God 1 had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son ! 3. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, ! — thou that killest the proph- ets, and sternest them which are sent unto thee! — how often w T ouid I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not ! 4. But the subject is too awful for irony. T will speak plainly and directly. Newton was a Christian ! Newton, whose mind burst forth from the fetters cast by nature upon our finite conceptions. — Newton, whose science was truth, and the foundation of whose knowledge of it was philosophy : not those visionary and arrogant pre r mptions, which too often usurp its name, but philosophy re nag upon the basis of mathematics, which, like figures, cannot lie — Newton, who carried the line and rule to the utmost barriers of creation, ?nd explored the principles by which, no doubt, all created matter is held together and exists. 5. To die, they say, is noble — as a soldier — But with such guides, to point th' unerring road, Such able guides, such arms and discipline As I have had, my soul would sorely feel 5 The dreadful pang which keen reflections give, Should she in death's dark porch, while life was ebbing, Receive the judgement, and this vile reproach : — " Long hast thou wander'd in a stranger's land, A stranger to thyself and to thy God : 10 The heavenly hills were oft within thy view, And oft the shepherd call'd thee to his flock, And call'd in vain. — A thousand monitors Bade thee return, and walk in wisdom's ways. The seasons, as they roll'd, bade thee return ; 15 The glorious sun, in his diurnal round, Beheld thy wandering, and bade thee return ; The night, an emblem of the night of death, Bade thee return : the risieg mounds, Which told the traveller where the dead repose 20 In tenements of clay, bade thee return; And at thy father's grave, the filial tear, Ex. 10, 11.] EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. 101 Which dear remembrance gave, bade thee return, And dwell in Virtue's tents, on Z ion's hill! — Here thy career be stay'd rebellious man ! 25 Long hast thou liv'd a cumberer of the ground. Millions are shipwreck'd on life's stormy coast, With all their charts on board, and powerful aid, Because their lofty pride disdained to learn Th' instructions of a pilot, and a God.' 7 On Cadence, Circumflex, and Accent, no additional illus- trations seem to be required in the Exercises. EXERCISES OX EMPHASIS. It was necessary in the rules to examine and exemplify the difference between emphatic stress, and emphatic inflec- tion, and also between absolute and relative stress. The examples, however, illustrating these distinctions, must generally be taken from single sentences a?i(l clauses. But as I wish here to introduce such passages as have consid- erable length, I hare concluded to arrange them all under the general heoA 0/ Emphasis, leaving the reader to class particular instances of stress, and inflection, according to the principles laid down page 39 to 47. Exercise 11. 1. He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? he that formed the eye, shall he not see ? — he that chastiseth the heathen, shall not he correct ? — he that teacheth man know- ledge, shall not he know? 2. The queen of the south shall rise up in the judgement with the men of this generation, and condemn them: for she came from the utmost parts of the earth, to hear the wisdom of Solomon ; and behold, a greater than Solomon is here. — The men of Nineveh shall rise up in the judge- ment with this generation, and shall condemn it ; for they repented at the preaching of Jonas ; and behold, a greatei than Jonas is here. 3. But when the Pharisees heard it, they said, This fellow doth not cast out devils, but by Beelzebub, the prince of the devils. 2 And Jesus knew their thoughts, and said unto them, Every kingdom divided against itself, is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself a* 102 EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. [Ex. 11. shall not stand. 3 And if Satan cast out Satan, he is divid- ed against himself; how shall then his kingdom stand? And if I by Beelzebub cast out devils, hy whom do your children cast them out? therefore they shall be your judges. But if I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you. 4 Or else how can one enter into a strong man's house, and spoil his goods, except he first bh>.i the strong man? and then he will spoil his house. 4. And behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempt- ed him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? 2 He said unto him, What is written in the law? how readest thou ? 3 And he answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind ; and thy neighbour as thyself. 4 And he said unto him, Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live. — But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who Is my neighbour? 5 And Jesus answering, said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jerico, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and w r ounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. 6 And by chance there- came down a certain priest that way; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. — And likewise a he- vite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side. 7 But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was; and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, — and went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 8 And on the morrow, when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him: and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee. 9 Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves? — And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go and do thou likewise. 5. For if you now pronounce, that, as my public conduct hath not been right, Ctesiphon must stand condemned, it must be thought that yourselves have acted wrong, not that you owe your present state to the caprice of fortune. But it cannot be. jSo, my countrymen ! It cannot be you have acted wrong, in encountering danger bravely, for the Ex. 11, 12.J EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. 103 liberty and safety of all Greece. No! By those generous souls of ancient times, who were exposed at Marathon ! By those who stood arrayed at Plafea! By those who en- countered the Persian fleet at Salamis ! who fought at Ar- temlsmm ! By all those illustrious sons of Athens, whose remains lie deposited in the public monuments ! All of whom received the same honorable interment from their country: Not those only who prevailed, not those only who w r e^'e victorious. And with reason. What was the part of gallant men they all performed; their success was such as the Supreme Director of the world dispensed to each. Exercise 12. Like other tyrants, death delights to smite, What, smitten, most proclaims the pride of pow'r, And arbitrary nod. His joy supreme, To bid the wretch survive the fortunate ; 5 The feeble wrap the athletic in his shroud; And weeping fathers build their children's tomb: Me thine, Narcissa ! — What though short thy date? Virtue, not rolling sihis, the mind matures. That life is long, which answers life's great end. 10 The tree that bears no fruit, deserves no name; The man of wisdom, is the man of years. Narcissa's youth has lectur'd me thus far. Andean her gaiety give counsel too? That, like the Jew's fam'd oracle of gems, 15 Sparkles instruction; such as throws new light, And opens more the character of death ; 111 known to thee, Lorenzo : This thy vaunt; " Give death his due, the wretched, and the old ; " Let him not violate kind nature's laws. 20 " But own man born to live as well as die." Wretched and old thou givest him ; young and gay He takes ; and plunder is a tyrant's joy. * Fortune, with youth and gaiety, conspir'd - To weave a triple wreath of happiness, 25 (If happiness on earth,) to crown her brow, And could death charge through such a shining shield? That shining shield invites the tyrant's spear; As if to damp our elevated aims, * In this place, and in many others, the connexion of the author is broken in the selections, without notice. 104 EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. [Ex. 12, 13 And strongly preach humility to man. O how portentous is prosperity ! How, comet-like, it threatens, while it shines! Few years but yield us proof of death's ambition, 5 To cull his victims from the fairest fold, And sheath his shafts in all the pride of life. When flooded with abundance, and purpled o'er With recent honors, bloom' d with ev'ry bliss, Set up in ostentation, made the gaze, 10 The gaudy centre, of the public eye, When fortune thus has toss'd her child in air, Snatch'd from the covert of an humble state, How often have I seen him drdpp'd at once, Our morning's envy [ and our ev'ning's sigh ! 15 Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow ; A blow, which, while it executes, alarms; And startles thousands with a single fall. ( ) As when some stately growth of oak or pine, Which nods aloft, and pimdly spreads her shade. 20 The sun's defiance, and the nock's defence ; By the strong strokes of lab'ring hinds subdu'd Loud groans her last, and rushing from her height, In cumb'rous ruin, thunders to the ground : The conscious forest trembles at the shock, 25 And hill, and stream, and distant dale resound.* Y 011V 2. Exercise 13. Genius and art, ambition's boasted wings, Our boast but ill deserve. If these alone Assist our flight, fame! s flight is glory 1 s fall. 30 Heart-merit wanting, mount we ne'er so high, Our height is but the gibbet of our name. A celebrated wretch when 1 behold, When 1 behold a genius bright, and base, Gf tow'ring talents, and terrestrial aims; 35 Methinks I see, as thrown from her high sphere, The glorious fragments of a soul immortal, With rubbish mixt, and glittering in the dust. Struck c.t the splendid, melancholy sight, * In the following Exercises, the marks of modulation are occasion- 4ily used. Ex 13.] EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. 105 At once compassion soft, and envy rise- But wherefore envy? Talents, angel -bright, W wanting ivorth, are shining instruments In false ambition's hand, to finish faults 5 Illustrious, and give infamy renown. Great ill is an achievement of great poitfrs. Plain sense but rarely leads us far astray, Me cms have no merit, if our end amiss. Hearts are proprietors of all applause. 10 Right ends, and means make wisdom: Worldly-wise Is but hdlf-witied, at its highest praise. Let genius then despair to make thee great ; Nor flatter station: What is station high? 'Tis a proud mendicant ; it boasts and begs ; 15 It begs an alms of homage from the throng. And oft the throng denies its charity. Monarchs and ministers, are awful names; Whoever wear them, challenge our devoir. Religion, public order, both exact 20 External homage, and a supple knee, To beings pompously set up, to serve The meanest slave ; all more is merit's due, Her sacred and inviolable right, Nor ever paid the monarch, but the man, 25 Our hearts ne'er bow but to superior worth ; Nor ex vv fail of their allegiance there. Fools, indeed drop the man in their account, And vote the mantle into majesty. Let the small savage boast his silver fur ; SO His royal robe unborrowed and unbought, His own, descending fairly from his sires. Shall man be proud to wear his lifery, And souls in ermine scorn a soul without? Can place or lessen us, or aggrandize? 35 Pigmies are pigmies still, though perch'd on Alps ; And pyramids are pyramids in vales Each man makes his oicn statue, builds himself; Virtue alone outbuilds the pyramids: Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall. 40 —Thy bosom burns for pow'r ; What station charms thee % I'll install thee there ; 'Tis thine. And art thou greater than before? Then thou before was something less than man. 106 EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. [E.X. 13, 14. Has thy new post betray* d thee into pride? That treacivrous pride betrays thy dignity ; That pride defames humanity, and calls 5 The being mean, which staffs or strings can raise. High worth is elevated place : ; Tis more; It makes the post stand candidate for thee; Makes more than monarchs, makes an honest man. Though no exchequer it commands, 'tis wealth; JO And though it wears no ribband, 'tis renown ; Renown, that would not quit thee, though disgraed, Nor leave thee pendant on a masters smile. Other ambition nature interdicts ; Nature proclaims it most absurd in man, 15 By pointing at his origin, and end ; Milk, and a swathe, at first his whole demand ; His whole domain, at last, a turf or stone ; To whom, between, a wdrld may seem too small. Young. Exercise 14. Ambition! pow'rful source of good and ill ! \ ^0 Thy strength in man, like length cf wing in birds, When disengag'd from earth, with o-reater ease And swifter flight transports us to the skies; By toys entangled, or in guilt bemir d, It turns a curse ; it is our chain, and scourge, 25 In this dark dungeon, where confined we lie, Close grated by the sordid bars of sense; All prospect of eternity shut out; And, but for execution, ne'er set free. In spite of all the truths the muse has sung, 30 Ne'er to be prized enough ! enough revolv'd ! Are there w r ho wrap the world so close about them, They see no farther fhan the clouds? and dance On heedless vanity's fantastic toe? Till, stumbling at a straw, in their career, 35 Headlong they plunge, where end both dance and song. Are there on earth, — (let me not call them men,) Who lodge a soul immortal in their breasts ; Unconscious as the mountain of its ore ; Or rock, of its inestimable gem ? 40 When rocks shall melt, and mountains vanish, these Ex. 14. 15.J EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. 107 Shall know their treasure ; treasure, then, no more. Are there, (still more amazing!) who resist The rising thought? Who smother, in its birth, The glorious truth ? Who struggle to be brutes? 5 Who through this bosom-barrier burst their Avay, And, with revers'd ambition, strive to sink? Who labour downwards, through th' opposing pow'r Of instinct, reason, and the world against them, To dismal hopes, and shelter in the shock 10 Of endless night? night darker than the grave's! Who fight the proofs of immortality ? With horrid zeal, and execrable arts, W T ork all their energies, level their black fires, To blot from man this attribute divine, 15 (Than vital blood far dearer to the wise) Blasphemers, and rank atheists to themselves ? — Young. Exercise 15. He ceas'd; and next him Moloch, scepter'd king Stood up ; the strongest and fiercest Spirit That fought in Heav'n, now fiercer by despair: 20 His trust was with th' Eternal to be rJeem'd Equal in strength, and rather than be less, Car'd not to be at all; with that care lost Went all his fear: of God, ot Hell, or worse, He reck'd not, and these words thereafter spake : 25 u My sentence is for open war ; of wil^s, More unexpert. / boast not ; them let those Contrive who need, or when they need, not now; For, while they sit contriving, shall the rest, Millions that stand in arms, and, longing, wait 30 The signal to ascend, sit lingering here Heav'n's fugitives, and for their dwelling place Accept this dark, opprobrious den of shame, The prison of his tyranny who reigns By our delay? Nd, let us rather choose, 35 Arm'd with Hell-flames and fury, all at once, O'er heav'n's high tow'rs to force resistless way, Turning our tortures into horrid arms, Against the Torturer ; when, to meet the noise Of his almighty engine, he shall hear 40 Infernal thunder, and for lightning, see 108 EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. [Ex. 15, Id Black fire and horror, shot with equal rage At.xong his Angels, and his throne itself, Mix ; d with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire, His own invented torments. ( ) But perhaps 5 The way seems difficult and steep, to scale With upright wing against a higher foe. Let them bethink them, if the sleepy drench Of that forgetful lake benumb not still, Tnat in our proper motion we ascend 10 Up to our native seat : descent and fall To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear, Insulting, and pursued us through the deep, With what compulsion and laborious flight 15 We sunk thus low? Th' ascent is easy then. Th' event is fear'd ; should we again provoke Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find To our destruction, if there be in Hell Fear to be worse destroy' d. What can be worse 20 Than to dwell here, driv'n out from bliss, condemn 7 *} In this abhorred deep to utter woe : Where pain of unextinguishable fire Must exercise us without hope of end The vassals of his anger, when the scourge 25 Inexorable, and the torturing hour, Calls us to penance? More destroy'd than thus, We should be quite abolish'd, and expire. What fear we then ? what doubt we to incense His utmost ire? which, to the height enragd, 30 Will either quite consume us, and reduce To nothing this essential, (happier far, Than miserable, to have eternal being,) Or, if our substance be indeed divine, And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 35 On this side nothing: and by proof we feel Our pow'r sufficient to disturb his Heaven, And with perpetual inroads to alarm, Though inaccessible, his fatal throne, 40 Which if not victory, is yet revenge.' ' Milton. Exercise 16. I should be much for open war, O peers ! Ex. 16, 17.J EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. 109 As not behind in hate, if what was urg'd, Main reason to persuade immediate war, Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast Ominous conjecture on the whole success, — 5 When he, who most excels in fact of arms, In what he counsels, and in what excels, Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair, And utter dissolution, as the scope Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. 10 First what revenge? The tow'rs of Heav'n are filFa With armed watch, that render all access Impregnable ; oft on the bord'ring deep Encamp their legions, or, with obscure wing, Scout far and wide into the realm of night, 15 Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way By force, and at our heels all hell should rise, With blackest insurrection, to confound Heav'n's purest light, yet our great enemy, All incorruptible, would on his throne 20 Sit unpolluted, and th' ethereal mould, Incapable of stain, would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repuls'd our final hope Is flat despair: we must exasperate 25 Th almighty Victor to spend all his rage, And that must end us, that must be our cure, To be no more : sad cure ; for who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, 30 To perish rather, swallow' d up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night, Devoid of sense and motion ? and who knows, Let this be good, whether our angry foe Can give it, or will ever ? how he can 35 Is doubtful : that he never will is sure. Milton Exercise 17. Aside the Devil turn'd For envy, yet with jealous leer malign Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plain'd. " Sight hateful, sight tormenting ! thus these two 40 Imparadis'd in one another's arms, The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill 10 110 EXERCISES ON EMPHASIS. |£x. 17, 18. Of bliss on bliss ; while I to Hell am thrust, Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, (Amongst our other torments not the least,) 45 Still unfulfilled, with pain of longing pines. Yet let me not forget what I have gain'd From their own mouths : all is not theirs it seems ; One fatal tree there stands of knowledge call'd, Forbidden them to taste. Knowledge forbidden ? 50 Suspicious, reasonless! Why should their Lord Envy them that? Can it be sin to know 1 Can it be death ? and do they only stand By ignorance ? is that their happy state, The proof of their obedience and their faith ? 55 O fair foundation laid whereon to build Their ruin ! Hence I will excite their minds With more desire to know, and to reject Envious commands, invented with design To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt 60 Equal with Gods : aspiring to be such, They taste and -die ; what likelier can ensue? But first with narrow search I must walk round This garden, and no corner leave unspy'd; A chance, but chance, may lead where I may meet 65 Some wand' ring spi'rit of Heav'n, by fountain side, Or in thick shade retir'd, from him to draw What further would be learn' d. Live while ye may, Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, Short pleasures for long woes . . are to succeed." 70 (°) So saying, his proud step he scornful turn'd, But with sly circumspection, and began, Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his roam. Milton. Exercise 18. Page 27. oottora Difference between the common and tht intensive inflection, I place this here, rather than under inflections, because, intensive elide so often stands connected with emphasis. The difficulty to be avoided may be seen sufficiently in an example or two. There is a general tendency to make the slide of the voice as great in degree, when there is little stress, as when there is much ; whereas, in tl e former case, the slide should be gentle, and sometimes hardly percep- tible. Ex. 18, 19.J EXERCISES ON MODULATION. Ill Common Slide. To play with important truths ; to disturb the repose of established tenets; to subtilize objections; and elude proo£ is too often the sport of youthful vanity, of which maturer experience commonly repents. Were the miser's repentance upon the neglect of a good bargain; his sorrow for being overreached; his hope of improving a sum; and his fear of falling into want; direct- ed to their proper objects, they would make so many Chris* tian graces and virtues. Intensive Slide. Consider, I beseech you, what was the part of a faithful citizen? of a prudent, an active, and an honest minister? Was he not to secure Eubcea, as our defence against all attacks by sea ? Was he not to make Beotia our barrier on the midland side ? The cities bordering on Peleponessus our bulwark on that quarter ? Was he not to attend with due precaution to the importation of corn, that this trade might be protected, through all its progress, up to our own harbours ? Was he not to cover those districts which we commanded, by seasonable detachments, as the Proconesus, the Chersonesus, and Tenedos ? To exert himself in the assembly for this purpose, while with equal zeal he laboured to gain others to our interest and alliance, as Bvzantium, Abydus, and Euboea? — Was he not to cut off the best, and most important re- sources of our enemies, and to supply those in which our country was defective 1 — And all this you gained by my counsels, and my administration. EXERCISES ON MODULATION. The reader will be able from the following examples, to choose those which are appropriate to rotundity of voice, fulness, loudness^ time, rhetorical pause, &c. COMPASS OF VOICE. Page 56. Exercise 19. To assist in cultivating the bottom of the voice, I have selected ex- amples of sublime or solemn description, which admit of but little inflection ; and some which contain the figure of simile. Where 12 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 19, the mark for low note is inserted, the reader will take pains to keep down his voice, and to preserve it in nearly the grave monotone. . 1. ( ) He bowed the heavens also and came down ; and darkness was under his feet. — And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly : yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind. — He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round about him were dark waters, and thick clouds of the skies. — At the brightness that was before him, his thick clouds passed, hail- stones and coals of fire. — The Lord also thundered in the heavens, and the Highest gave his voice ; hailstones and coals of fire. 2. ( ) And then shall appear the sign of the Son of Man in heaven ; and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of Man, coming in the clouds of heaven, with power and great glory. — And he shall send his angels, with a great sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other. 3. ( ) And the heaven departed as a scroll, when it is rolled together ; and every mountain and island were moved out of their places. ,2 And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bond-man, and every free-man, hid ihemselves in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains ; 3 And said to the mountains and rocks, Fall onus, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb : — For the great day of his lorath is come ; and who shall be able to stand ? 4. And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat upon it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away ; and there was found no place for them. 6 And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God : and the books were opened : and another book was opened, which is the book of life : and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in -he books, according to their works. 6 And the sea gave up the dead which were in it ; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them : and they were judged every man according to their works. • 5. 'Tis listening Fear and dumb Amazement all* When to the startled eye, the sudden glance Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud : And folloAving slower, in explosion fast, Ex. 19] EXERCISES ON MODULATION 113 The Thunder raises his tremendous voice. At first heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven, The tempest growls ; ( ) but as it nearer comes, And rolls its awful burthen on the wind ; 5 The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more The noise astounds: till over head a sheet Of livid flame discloses wide ; then shuts And opens wider; shuts and opens, still Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze. 10 Follows the loosened aggravated roar, Enlarging, deep'ning, mingling peal on peal Crush' d horrible, convulsing heaven and earth. 6. 'Twas then great Marlb' rough's mighty soul was prov'd, 15 That in the shock of charging hosts unmov'd, Amidst confusion, horror, and despair, Examin'd all the dreadful scenes of war; In peaceful thought the field of death survey' d, To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid; 20 Inspir'd repuls'd battalions to engage, And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. ( ) So when an angel, by divine command, With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, (Such as of late o'er pale Britannia past,) 25 Calm and serene he drives the furious blast ; And pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, Rides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm. 7. Rous' d from his trance, he mounts with eyes aghast, When o'er the ship, in undulation vast, 30 A giant surge down rushes from on high, And fore and aft dissever'd ruins lie: ( ) As when, Britannia's empire to maintain, Great Hawke descends in thunder on the main, Around, the brazen voice of battle roars, 35 And fatal lightnings blast the hostile shores ; Beneath the storm their shatter' d navies groan, The trembling deep recoils from zone to zone; Thus the torn vessel felt the enormous stroke, The beams beneath the thund'ring deluge broke. 10* 14 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 19 8. To whom, in brief, thus Abdiel stern reply' d. Reign thou in Hell, thy kingdom ; let me serve In Heav'n God ever blest, and his divine Behests obey, worthiest to be obey'd; 5 Yet chains in Hell, not realms expect: meanwhile From me, (ret urn' d as erst thou saidst from flight,) This greeting on thy impious crest receive. ( ) So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high, Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell 10 On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight, Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield, Such ruin intercept ; ten paces huge He back recoil' d ; the tenth on bended knee His massy spear upstay'd ; as if on earth 15 Winds under ground, or waters forcing way, Sidelong had push'd a mountain from his seat. Half sunk with all his pines. - -Now storming fury rose, And clamor such as heard in Heav'n till now 20 Was never ; arms on armour clashing, bray'd Horrible discord, and the maddening wheels Of brazen chariots rag'd; dire was the noise Of conflict; over head the dismal hiss Of fiery darts in flaming vollies flew, 25 And flying, vaulted either host with fire. So under fiery cope together rush'd Both battles main, with ruinous assault And inextinguishable rage; all Heaven Resounded ; and had Earth been then, all Earth 30 Had to her centre shook. -Long time in even scale- The battle hung ; till Satan, who that day Prodigious pow'r had shown, and met in arms No equal, ranging through the dire attack 35 Of fighting Seraphim confus'd, at length Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and fell'd Squadrons at once ; with huge two-handed sway, Brandish'd aloft, the horrid edge came down 40 Wide wasting; such destruction to withstand He hasted, and oppos'd the rocky orb Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield, A va3t circumference. At his approach The great Archangel from his warlike toil Ex. 19.] EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 115 Surceas'd, and glad, as hoping here to end Intestine war in Heav'n, th' arch-foe subdu'd. Now wav'd their fiery swords, and in the air Made horrid circles ; two broad suns their shields 5 Blaz'd opposite, w r hile expectation stood In horror ; from each hand with speed retired, Where erst was thickest fight, the angelic throng, And left large fields, unsafe within the wind Of such commotion ; such as, to set forth 10 Great things by small, if nature's concord broke, Among the constellations war were sprung, Two planets rushing from aspect malign Of fiercest opposition, in mid-sky, Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. Milton. The following examples are selected as a specimen of those pas- sages which are most favourable to the cultivation of a top to tne voice. In pronouncing these, the reader should aim to get up his voice to the highest note on which he can articulate with freedom and distinctness. See remarks, page 57, bottom. If the student wishes for more examples of this kind, he is referred to Exercise 5, p. 84. 9. Has a wise and good God furnished us with desires which have no correspondent objects, and raised expecta- tions in our breasts, with no other view but to disappoint them? — Are we to be forever in search of happiness, with- out arriving at it, either in this world or the next? — Are we formed with a passionate longing for immortality, and yet destined to perish, after this short period of existence? — Are we prompted to the noblest actions, and supported through life, under the severest hardships and most delicate temptations, by the hopes of a reward which is visionary and chimerical, by the expectation of praises, of Avhich it is utterly impossible for us ever to have the least knowledge or enjoyment? 10. (°) " Whence and what art thou, execrable shape* That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated front athwart my way To yonder gates ? through them I mean to pass, 5 That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee : ^JB^tire, or taste thy folly ; and learn by proof, Hell-born, not to contend with spi'rits of Heav'n." 116 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 19,20, To whom the goblin full of wrath reply'd ; (°) " Art thou that traitor Angel ? art thou he, - 10 Who first broke peace in Heav'n and faith, till then Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms Drew after him the third part of Heav'n' s sons, Conjur'd against the High' est, for which both thou And they, outcast from God, are here condemn' d 1 5 To waste eternal days in wo and pain ? And reckon' st thou thyself with spi'rits of Heaven, Hell-doom' d, and breath' st defiance here and scorn, Where / reign king, and, to enrage thee more, Thy king and lord % Back to thy punishment, 20 False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue Thy ling' ring, or with one stroke of this dart, Strange horrors seize thee, and pangs unfelt before."* TRANSITION. Page 60. Exercise 20. The Exercises of the foregoing head were designed to accustom the voice to exertion on the extreme notes of its compass, high and k.w. The following Exercises under this head are intended to ac- t istom the voice to those sudden transitions which sentiment often requires, not only as to pitch, but also as to quantity. The Power of Eloquence. AN ODE. 1 Heard ye those loud contending waves, That shook Cecropia's pillar'd state? Saw ye the mighty from their graves Look up, and tremble at her fate ? Who shall calm the angry storm ? Who the mighty task perform, And bid the raging tumult cease ? See the son of Hermes rise ; With syren tongue, and speaking eyes, Hush the noise, and soothe to peace ! 2 Lo ! from the regions of the North, The reddening storm of battle pours ; Rolls along the trembling earth, Fastens on the Olynthian towers. * The two preceding are good examples of the intensive, in distinc- ti m from the comvion slide. Ex. 20.] EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 117 3 (°) " Where rests the sword? — where sleep the brave? Awake ! Cecropia's ally save From the fury of the blast; Burst the storm on Phocis' walls Rise ! or Greece forever falls. L T p I or freedom breathes her last 1 " 4 ( ) The jarring States, obsequious now, View the Patriots hand on high; Thunder gathering on his brow, Lightning flashing from his eye! 5 Borne by the tide of words along, One voice, one mind, inspire the throng : (°°) " To arms ! to arms ! to arms ! " they cry " Grasp the shield and draw the sword, Lead us to Philippi's lord, Let us conquer him — or die /" 6 ( — ) Ah Eloquence ! thou wast undone ; Wast from thy native country driven, When Tyranny eclips'd the sun, And blotted out the stars of heaven. 7 When Liberty from Greece withdrew, And o'er the Adriatic flew, To where the Tiber pours his urn She struck the rude Tarpeian rock ; Sparks were kindled by the shock — Again thy fires began to burn ! 8 Now, shining forth, thou mad'st compliant The Conscript Fathers to thy charms ; Rous' d the world-bestriding giant, Sinking fast in Slavery's arms ! 9 I see thee stand by Freedom's fane, Pouring the persuasive strain, Giving vast conceptions birth: Hark! I hear thy thunder's sound, Shake the Forum round and round — ■ Shake the pillars of the earth! 10 First-born of Liberty divine! Put on Religions bright array; 18 KXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 2C, 21 Speak! and the starless grave shall shine The portal of eternal day ! . 1 Rise, kindling with the orient beam ; Let Calvary 1 s hill inspire the theme ! Unfold the garments roll'd in blood! O touch the soul, touch all her chords, With all the omnipotence of words, And point the way to heaven — to God. Gary Exercise 21. Hohenlinden....Descriplio?i of a Battle with Firearm% 1 ( ) On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser rolling rapidly. 2 But Linden saw another sight, (<) When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery. 3 By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Each warrior drew his battle blade, And furious every charger neighed, To join the dreadful revelry. 4 (<) Then shook the hills with thunder riven, Then rushed the steeds to battle driven, And louder than the bolts of Heaven, Far flashed the red artillery. 5 And redder yet those fires shall glow, On Linden's hills of blood- stained snow; And darker yet shall be the flow Of Iser rolling rapidly. 6 'Tis morn, — but scarce yon lurid sun Can pierce the war clouds, rolling dun, While furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. 7 The combat deepens: — (°°) On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave' Ex. 21, 22.1 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 119 Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave ! And charge with all thy chivalry ! 8 ( — ) Ah ! few shall part where many meet ! The snow shall be their winding sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. Campbell Exercise 22. Battle, of Waterloo. 1 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 ris- ing knell ! 2 Did ye not hear it ? — No ; 'twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street : (°) On with the dance ! let joy be unconfmed ; No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet To chase the glowin hours with flying feet — ( Q ) 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 ! 3 ( — ) 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 % 4 (=) And there was mounting, in hot haste ; the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, J20 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 22, 23. When 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 come ! They come !" 5 ( — ) And Ardennes* waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the un returning brave, — alas ! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass, Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when the fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe, And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low, 6 Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal sound of strife, The morn, the marshalling in arms, — the day, Battle's magnificently-stern array ! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent, The earth is covered thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse, — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent ! Byron. Exercise 23. Negro's Complaint. 1 ( — ) Foiced from home and all its pleasures, Afric's coast I left forlorn ; To increase a stranger's treasures, O'er the raging, billows borne. Men from England bought and sold me, Paid my price in paltry gold ; But though slave they have enroll' d me, Minds are never to be sold. 2 Still in thought as free as ever, What are England's rights, I ask, Me from my delights to sever, Me to torture, me to task? * Pronounced in two syllables. EX. 23.] EXERCISES ON MODULATION. Fleecy locks, and black complexion, Cannot forfeit nature's claim ; Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same. 3 Why did all-creating- nature Make the plant for which we toil % Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards ; Think •• how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords. 4 (.£_) Is there, as ye sometimes tell us, Is there one who reigns on high? Has he bid you buy and sell us, Speaking from his throne the sky? Ask him, if your knotted scourges, Matches, blood-extorting screws, Are the means that duty urges Agents of his will to use ? 5 ( ) Hark! — he answers; — w r ild tornadoes. Strewing yonder sea with wrecks ; Wasting towns, plantations, meadows, Are the voice with which he speaks. He, foreseeing what vexations Afric's sons should undergo, Fixed their tyrants' habitations Where his whirlwinds answer — no. 5 By our blood in Afric wasted, Ere our necks received the chain ; By the miseries that we tasted, Crossing in your barks the main; By our sufferings since ye brought us To the man-degrading mart; All, sustained by patience, taught us Only by a broken heart ; 7 * Deem our nation brutes -no longer, Till some reason ye shall find * Firm voice. J 22 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 23, 24 Worthier of regard, and stronger Than the colour of our kind. Slaves of gold, whose sordid dealings Tarnish all your boasted powers, Prove that you have human feelings, Ere you proudly question ours! Cowper. Exercise 24, Marco Bozzaris, the Epaminondas of Modern Greece. [He fell in an attack upon the Turkish Camp, at Laspi, the site of the ancient Plataea, August 20, 1823, and expired in the moment of victory. His last words were — " To die for liberty is a pleasure, and not a pain."] 1 At midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour, When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams, his song of triumph heard; Then wore his monarch's signet ring, — Then press' d that monarch's throne, — a king; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird. 2 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 sabre stroke, And death shots falling thick and fast As lightnings from the mountain cloud ; And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, Bozzaris cheer his band. ( 00 ) "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. 3 They fought — like brave men, long and well. They piled that ground with Moslem slain. EX. 24, 25.] EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 123 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 saw in death his eyelids close, Calmly as to a night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun. 4 ( — ) 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. 5 But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be. Bozzaris ! with the storied brave Greece nurtured in her glory's time, Rest thee — there is no prouder grave, Even in her own proud clime. We tell thy doom without a sigh ; For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame's — One of the few, the immortal names, That were not born to die. Halleck Exercise 25. ( ) Now when fair morn orient in Heaven appear' a, Up rose the victor Angels, and to arms 124 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 25 The matin trumpet sung : in arms they stood Of golden panoply, refulgent host, 5 Soon banded ; others from the dawning hills Look'd round, and scouts each coast light armed scour, Each quarter, to descry the distant foe, Where lodg'd, or whither fled, or if for fight, In motion or in halt: him soon they met 10 Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow But firm battalion ; back with speediest sail Zophiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing, Came fly'ng, and in mia air aloud thus cry'd. (°°) * Arm, Warriors, arm for fight — the foe at hand, 15 Whom fled Ave thought, will save us long pursuit This day ; fear not his flight : so thick a cloud He comes, and settled in his face I see Sad resolution and secure ; let each His adamantine coat girt well, — and each 20 Fit well his helm, — gripe fast his orbed shield, Borne ev'n on high ; for this day will pour down, If I conjecture ought, no drizzling shower, But rattling storm of arrows, barb'd with fire.' ( ) So warn'd he them, aware themselves, and soon 25 In order, quit of all impediment ; Instant, without disturb, they took alarm, And onward move, embattled : when behold, Not distant far, with heavy pace the foe Approaching, gross and huge, in hollow cube, 30 Training his devilish engineiy, impal'd On every side with shadowing squadrons deep, To hide the fraud. At interview both stood A while ; but suddenly at head appeared Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud. 35 (°°) ' Vanguard ! — to right and left the front unfold That all may see who hate us, how we seek Peace and composure, and with open breast Stand ready to receive them, if they like Our overture, and turn not back perverse.' Milton. Ex. 26.] EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 125 EXPRESSION. Page 61. The Exercises arranged in this class, belong to the general head of the pathetic and delicate. As this has been partly anticipated under another head of the Exercises, and as the manner of execution in this case depends wholly on emotion, there can be little assistance render- ed by a notation. Before reading the pieces in this class, the remarks p. 61 and 62 should be reviewed; and the mind should be prepared to feel the spirit of each piece, by entering fully into the circumstances of the case. Exercise 26. Genesis xliv. JudaKs speech to Joseph. 18 * Then Judah came near unto him and said, O my lord, let thy servant, I pray thee, speak a word in my lord's ears, and let not thine anger burn against thy servant: for thou art even as Pharaoh. — 19 My lord asked his servants, saying, Have ye a father, or a brother ? — 20 And we said unto my lord, We have a father, an old man, and a child of his old age, a little one: and his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loveth him. — 21 And thou saidst unto thy servants, Bring him down unto me, that I may set mine eyes upon him. — 22 And we said unto my lord, The lad cannot leave his father: for if he should leave his father, his father would die. — 23 And thou saidst unto thy servants, Except your youngest brother come down with you, ye shall see my face no more. — 24 And it came to pass, when we came up unto thy servant my father, we told him the words of my lord. — 25 And our father said, Go again and buy us a little food. — 26 And we said, We cannot go down: if our youngest brother be with us, then we will go down; for we may not see the man's face, except our youngest brother be with us. — 27 And thy servant my fa- ther said unto us, Ye know that my wife bear me two sons : — 28 And the one went out from me, and 1 said, Surely he is torn in pieces; and I saw him not since: — 29 And if ye take this also from me, and mischief befall him, ye shall bring down my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. ( — ) 30 Now therefore when I come to thy servant my father, and the lad be not with us; (seeing that his life is bound up in the lad's life;) — 31 It shall come to pass, when he seeth * The reader is again desired to bear in mind, that in extracts from the Bible, as well as other books, Italic words denote emphasis. ii* 126 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 26, 27. that the lad is not with us, that he will die : and thy servants shall bring down the grey hairs of thy servant our father with sorrow to the grave. — 32 For thy servant became sure- ty for the lad unto my father, saying, if I bring him not unto thee, then I shall bear the blame to my father forever. — 33 Now therefore, I pray thee, let thy servant abide instead of the lad, a bond-man to my lord ; and let the lad go up with his brethren. — 34 For how shall I go up to my father, and the lad be not with me 1 lest peradventure I see the evil that shall come on my father. Exercise 27. Genesis xlv. Joseph disclosing himself. 1 Then Joseph could not refrain himself before all them that stood by him ; and he cried, Cause every man to go out from me. And there stood no man with him while Jo- seph made himself known unto his brethren. — 2 And he wept aloud ; and the Egyptians and the house of Pharaoh heard. — 3 And Joseph said unto his brethren, I am Joseph: doth my father yet live? — And his brethren could not an- swer him, for they were troubled at his presence. — 4 And Joseph said unto his brethren, Come near to me I pray you: and they came near. And he said I am Joseph, your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt. 5 Now therefore be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send meJ)efore you to preserve life. 6 For these two years hath the famine been in the land : and yet there are five years, in the which there shall be neither earing nor harvest. 7 And God sent me before you, to pre- serve you a posterity in the earth, and to save your lives by a. great deliverance. 8 So now it was not you that sent me hither but God: and he hath made me a father to Pha- raoh, and lord of all his house, and a ruler 'throughout all the land of Egypt. 9 Haste ye, and go up to my father, and say unto him, Thus saith thy son Joseph, God hath made me lord of all Egypt ; come doivn unto me, tarry not. 10 And thou shalt dwell in the land of Goshen, and thou shalt be near unto me, thou, and thy children, and thy chil- dren's children, and thy flocks, and thy herds," and all that thou hast : 1 1 And there will I nourish thee, (for yet there are five years of famine,) lest thou, and thy household, and all that thou hast come to poverty. 12 And behold, your Ex. 27, 28.] EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 127 eyes see, and the eyes of thy brother Benjamin, that it is my mouth that speaketh unto you. 13 And ye shall tell my father of all my glory in Egypt, and of all that ye have seen; and ye shall haste, and bring down my father hither. 14 And he fell upon his brother Benjamin's neck, and wept ; and Benjamin wept upon his neck. 15 Moreover he kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them : and after that his brethren talked with him. 25 And they went up out of Egypt, and came into the land of Canaan unto Jacob their father, 26 And told him saying, Joseph is yet alive ! and he is governor over all therland of Egypt. And Jacob's heart fainted, for he be- lieved them not. 27 And they told him ail the words of Joseph, which he had said unto them : and when he saw the waggons which Jcseph had sent to carry him, the spirit of Jacob their father revived : 28 And Israel said, It is enough ; Joseph my son is yet alive : I will go anr see him before I die. Exercise 28. The death of a friend. 1 I fain would sing : — but ah ! I strive in vain. Sighs from a breaking heart my voice confound. With trembling step to join yon weeping train, I haste, where gleams funereal glare around, And, mix'd with shrieks of wo, the knells of death re- sound. 2 Adieu, ye lays, that Fancy's flowers adorn, The soft amusement of the vacant mind ! He sleeps in dust, and all the Muses mourn, — He, whom each virtue fired, each grace refined, Friend, teacher, pattern, darling of mankind ! He sleeps in dust. Ah, how shall I pursue My theme ! To heart-consuming grief resign' d, Here on his recent grave I fix my view, And pour my bitter tears. Ye flowery lays, adieu ! 3 Art thou, my Gregory, forever fled? And am I left to unavailing wo ! When fortune's storms assail this weary head, Where cares long since have shed untimely snow, 128 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 28, 29. Ah, now for comfort whither shall I go ! No more thy soothing voice my anguish cheers : Thy placid eyes with smiles no longer glow, My hopes to cherish, and allay my fears. 'Tis meet that I should mourn : flow forth afresh my tears. Beattie. Exercise 29. The Burial of Sir John Moore. 1 ( — )Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the ramparts we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave, where our Hero was buried. 2 We buried him darkly ; at dead of night; The sods with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moon-beams' misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. 3 No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him j But he lay — like a warrior taking his rest — With his martial cloak around him ! 4 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 — 5 We thought — as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow — How the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! 6 " Lightly they '11 talk of the spirit that 's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But nothing he '11 reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him." 7 But half of our heavy task was done, When the clock toll'd the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun, That the foe was suddenly firing — Ex. 30, 31.] EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 129 8 ( £ ) Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory! We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But left him — alone with his glory ! Wolfe. Exercise 30. Eve lamenting the loss of Paradise. ( — ) " O unexpected stroke, worse than of Death ! Must I thus leave thee, Paradise? thus leave Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, Fit haunt of gods ? where I had hope to spend, 5 Quiet though sad, the respite of that day That must be mortal to us both. O flowers, That never will in other climate grow, My early visitation, and my last At ev'n, which I bred up with tender hand, 10 From the first opening bud, and gave ye names, Who now shall rear you to the sun, or rank Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount ? Thee lastly, nuptial bow'r, by me adorn' d With what to sight or smell was sweet, from thee 15 How shall I part, and whither wander down Into a lower world, to this obscure And wild? how shall we breathe in other air Less pure, accustom' d to immortal fruits?' Exercise 31. Soliloquy of Hamlets Uncle. ( g ) Oh ! my offence is rank, it smells to heaven ; It hath the primal, eldest curse upon 't, A brother's murder ! — Pray I cannot, Though inclination be as sharp as 'twill, 5 My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent: And like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall fii st begin, And both neglect. (°) What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood; 10 Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy, But to confront the visage of offence? And what 's in prayer, but this two-fold force, 130 EXERCISES ON MODULATION [Ex. 31, 32 To be forestalled, ere we come to fall, 15 Or pardon' d being down ?— Then Til look tip ; My fault is past. — But oh, what form of prayer Can serve my turn % " Forgive me my foul murder \ n That cannot be; since I am still possess'd Of those effects for which I did the murder, 20 My crbwn, my own ambition, and my queen. May one be pardon' d, and retain the offence ? In the corrupted currents of this world, Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice ; And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself 25 Buys out the law : but 'tis not so above : There, is no shuffling : there, the action lies In his true nature ; and we ourselves compell'd, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. — What then ? — -what rests ? 30 Try what repentance can : what can it not ? Yet what can it, when one cannot repent? (°) O wretched state! oh bosom, black as death ! Oh limed soul ; that struggling to be free, Art more en gag' d I Help, angels ! make assay ! 35 Bow, stubborn knees ; and, heart, with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of the new born babe I All may be well. RHETORICAL DIALOGUE. Page 62. Exercise 32. 1. Matt. xiv. — 22 And straightway Jesus constrained fcis disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side, while he sent the multitudes away. 23 And when he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray : and when the evening was come, he was there alone. 24 But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves : for the wind was contrary. 25 And in the fourth watch of the night, Jesus went unto khem, walking on the se i. 26 And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, it is a sjpirit ; and they cried out for fear. 27 But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; oe not afraid. 28 And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the wa- Ex. 32.] EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 131 ter. 29 And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid ; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. 3 1 And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt 1 32 And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceased. 33 Then they that were in the ship came and worshipped him, saying, Of a truth thou art the Son of God. 2. Matt. xvii. — 14 And when they were come to the multitude, there came to him a certain man kneeling down to him, and saying, 15 Lord, have mercy on my son ; foi he is a lunatic and sore vexed, for oft-times he falleth into the fire, and oft into the water. 16 And I brought him to thy disciples, and they could not cure him. 17 Then Je- sus answered and said, O faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you ? how long shall I suffer you % Bring him hither to me. 18 And Jesus rebuked the devil, and he departed out of him : and the child was cured from that very hour. 19 Then came the disciples to Jesus apart, and said, why could not we cast him out ? 20 And Jesus said to them, Because of your unbelief: for ve\ily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard-seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove ; and nothing shall be impossible unto you. 3. Matt, xviii. — Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants. 24 And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him which owed him ten thousand talents. 25 But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. 26 The servant therefore fell down and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. 27 Then the Lord of that ser- vant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and for- gave him the debt. 28 Bui the same servant went out, and found one of his fellow-servants, which owed him an hun- 132 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 32. dred pence ; and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest. 29 And his fellow-servant fell down at his feet, and besought him, say- ing, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. 30 And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt. 31 So when his fellow-servants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. 32 Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desirest me: 33 Shouldst not thou also have had compassion on thy fellow-servant even as I had pity on thee % 4. Matt. xx. — 25 But Jesus called them unto him, and said, Ye know that the princes of the Gentiles exercise do- minion over them, and they that are great exercise authority upon them. 26 But it shall not be so among you : but whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minis- ter; 27 And whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant : 28 Even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many. 29 And as they departed from Jericho, a great multitude followed him. 30 And behold, two blind men sitting by the way side, when they heard that Jesus passed by, cried out, saying, Have mercy on us, O Lord, thou son of David. 31 And the multitude rebuked them, because they should hold their peace: but they cried the more, saying, Have mercy on us, O Lord, thou son of David. 32 And Jesus stood still, and called them, and said, What will ye that I shall do unto you ? 33 They say unto him, Lord, that our eyes may be opened. 34 So Jesus had compassion on them, and touched their eyes: and immediately their eyes received sight and they followed him. 5. Matt. xxi. — 23 And when he was come into the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came unto him, as he was teaching, and said, by what authority doest thou these things ? and who gave thee this authority ? 24 And Jesus answered and said unto them, I also will ask you one thing, which if ye tell me, I in like wise will tell you by what authority I do these Ex. 3£.J EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 13J things. 25 The baptism of John, whence was it ? from heaven, or of men ? And they reasoned with themselves, saying, If we shall say, from heaven ; he will say unto us, Why did ye not then believe him? 26 But if we shall say, Of men ; we fear the people : for all hold John as a prophet 27 And they answered Jesus and said, we cannot tell. And he said unto them, Neither tell I you by what authority I do these things. 28 But. what think ye ? A certain man had two soriS ; and he came to the first, and said, Son, go work to-day in my vineyard. 29 He answered and said, I will not ; but after ward he repented and went. 30 And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered, I go, sir ; and went not. Whether of them twain did the will of h ; s father? They say unto him, The first. Jesus saith m to them, Verily I say unto you, That the publicans and ha "lots go "into the kingdom of God before you. 6. Matt. xxv. — 3t When the Son of Man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory : 32 And before him shall be gathered all nations ; and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats: 33 And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. 34 Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, in- herit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world ; 35 For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat : I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink : I was a stranger ; and ye took me in : 36 Naked, and ye clothed me : I was sick, and ye visited me : I was in prison, and ye came unto me. 37 Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink ? 38 When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? 39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee ? 50 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily, I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. 41 Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels : 42 For I was an hungered, and ye 12 134 EXERCISES ON MODULATION. [Ex. 32 gave me no meat : I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink . 43 I was a stranger, and ye took me not \n : naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. 44 Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee ! 45 Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily, I say unto you, Inas- much as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. 46 And these shall go away into everlasting punish- ment : but the righteous into life eternal. 7. Acts xii. — 5 Peter therefore w r as kept in prison : but, prayer was made without ceasing of the church unto God for him. 6 And when Herod would have brought him forth, the same night Peter was sleeping between two sol- diers', bound with two chains ; and the keepers before the door kept the prison. 7 And behold, the angel of the Lord came upon him, and a light shined in the prison; and he smote Peter on the side, and raised him up, saying, Arise up quickly. And his chains fell off from his hands. 8 And the angel said unto him, Gird thyself, and bind on thy san- dals ; and so he did. And he saith unto him, Cast thy gar- ment about thee, and follow me. 9 And he went out, and followed him, and wist not that it was true which was done by the angel ; but thought he saw a vision. 10 When they were past the first and the second ward, they came unto the iron gate that leadeth unto the city; which opened unto them of his own accord : and they went out, and passed on through one street : and forthwith the angel departed from him. 1 1 And when Peter was come to himself, he said, Now I know of a surety, that the Lord hath sent his angel, and hath delivered me out of the hand of Herod, and from all the expectation of the people of the Jews. 12 And when he had considered the thing, he came to the house of Mary the mother of John, whose surname was Mark ; where many were gathered together, praying. 13 And as Peter knocked at the door of the gate, a damsel came to hearken, named Rhoda. 14 And when she knew Peter's voice, she opened not the gate for gladness, but ran in, and told how Peter stood before the gate. 15 And they said unto her, Thou art mad. But she constantly affirmed that it was even so. Then said they, It is his angel. 16 But Ex. 32.] EXERCISES ON MODULATION. 135 Peter continued knocking. And when they had opened the door and saw him, they were astonished. 1 7 But he beck- oning unto them with the hand to hold their peace, de- clared unto them how the Lord had brought him out of the prison. And he said, Go shew these things unto James, and to the brethren. And he departed, and went into another place. EXERCISES, PART II. The reader will observe that rhetorical notation is but partially ap- plied in the following Exercises. Exercise 33. Character of Columbus. Irving. " A peculiar trait in his rich and varied character, re- mains to be noticed ; that ardent and enthusiastic im- agination, which threw a magnificence over his whole style of thinking. Herrera intimates, that he had a tal- 5 ent for poetry, and some slight traces of it are on record, in the book of prpphecies, which he presented to the Cath- olic sovereigns. But his poetical temperament is dis- cernable throughout all his writings, and in all his ac- tions. It spread a golden and glorious world around 10 him, and tinged everything with its own gorgeous colours. It betrayed him into visionary speculations, which sub- jected him to the sneers and cavilings of men of cooler and safer, but more groveling minds. Such were the conjectures formed on the coast of Paria, about the form 15 of the earth, and the situation of the terrestrial paradise; about the mines of Ophir, in Hispaniola, and of the Au- rea Chersonesus, in Veragua; and such was the heroic scheme of the crusade, for the recovery of the holy sep- ulchre. It mingled with his religion, and filled his 20 mind with solemn and visionary meditations, on mystic passages of the scriptures, and the shadowy portents of the prophecies. It exalted his office in his eyes, and made him conceive himself an agent sent forth upon a sublime and awful mission, subject to impulses and su- 25 pernatural visions from the Deity ; such as the voice he imagined spoke to him in comfort, amidst the troubles Ex. 33.] EXERCISES. PART II. 137 of Hispaniola, and in the silence of the night, on the dis- astrous coast of Veragua. " He was decidedly a visionary, but a visionary of an uncommon and successful kind. The manner in which 5 his ardent imagination and mercurial nature were con- trolled by a powerful judgement, and directed by an acute sagacity, is the most extraordinary feature in his charac- ter. Thus governed, his imagination, instead of wasting itself in idle soarings, lent wings to his judgement, and bore it away to conclusions at which common minds could never have arrived ; nay, which they could not perceive when pointed out. " To his intellectual vision it was given, to read in the signs of the times, and the reveries of past ages, the indi- 15 cations of an unknown world, as soothsayers were said to read predictions in the stars, and to foretell events from the visions of the night. ' His soul/ observes a Spanish wri- ter, ' was superior to the age in which he lived. For him was reserved the great enterprise to plough a sea which 20 had given rise to so many fables, and to decipher the mys- tery of his time.' " With all the visionary fervor of his imagination, its fondest dreams fell short of the reality. He died in igno- rance of the real grandeur of his discovery. Until his 25 last breath, he entertained the idea, that he had merely opened anew way to the old resorts of opulent commerce, and had discovered some of the wild regions of the east. He supposed Hispaniola to be the ancient Ophir which had been visited by the ships of Solomon, and that Cuba 30 and Terra Firma, were but remote parts of Asia. What visions of glory would have broke upon his mind, could he have known that he had indeed discovered a new con- tinent, equal to the whole of the old world in magnitude, and separated by two vast oceans from all the earth hith- 35 erto known by civilized man ; and how would this mag- nanimous spirit have been consoled, amidst the chills of age, and cares of penury, the neglect of a fickle public, and the injustice of an ungrateful king, could he have anticipated the splendid empires which were to spread 40 over the beautiful world he had discoveed, and the nations and tongues and languages which were to fill its lands with his renown, and to revere and bless his name to the latest posterity ! 1 12* 138 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. S4, 35. Exercise 34. The Victim. — Philadelphia Casket. . " Hand me the bowl, ye jovial band," He said — u 'twill rouse my mirth ;" But conscience seized his trembling hand, And dash'd the cup to earth." 2. He look'd around, he blush'd, helaugh'd, He sipp'd the spark' ling wave ; In it he read — " who drinks this draught, Shall dig a murderer's grave !" 3. He started up, like one from sleep And trembled for his life ; He gazed, and saw — his children weep, He saw his weeping wife. 4. In his deep dream he had not felt Their agonies ana fears ; But now he saw them as they knelt, To plead with prayers and tears. 5. But the foul fiend her hateful spell Threw o'er his wildered mind, He saw in every hope a hell ; He was to reason blind. 6. He grasp'd the bowl to seek relief ; No more his conscience said: His bosom friend was sunk in grief, His children begged for bread. ♦ 7. Through haunts of horror and of strife, He passed dqwn life's dark tide ; He curs'd his beggar'd babes and wife; He curs'd his God — and died ! Exercise 35. Conflagration at Rome of an Amphitheatre. — Croly. " Rome was an ocean of flame. Height and depth were covered with red surges, that rolled before the blast. Ex. 35.] EXERCISES. — PART II. 139 like an endless tide. — The billows burst up the sides of the hills, which they turned into instant volcanoes, ex- ploding volumes of smoke and fire; then plunged into the depths in a hundred glowing cataracts, then climb- 5 ed and consumed again. The distant sound of the city in her convulsion went to the soul. The air was filled with the steady roar of the advancing flame, the crash of falling houses, and the hideous outcry of the myriads flying through the streets, or surrounded and perishing 10 in the conflagration.******* ## All was clamor, violent struggle, and helpless death. Men and women of the highest rank were on foot, trampled by the rabble that had then lost all respect of conditions. One dense mass of miserable life, irresistible from its weight, crushed 15 by the narrow streets, and scorched by the flames over their heads, rolled through the gates like an endless stream of black lava. # # # # # u The fire had originally broken oat upon the Pala- tine, and hot smokes that wrapped and half blinded us, 20 hung thick as night upon the wrecks of pavilions and palaces; but the dexterity and knowledge of my inexpli- cable guide carried us on. It was in vain that I insist- ed upon knowing the purpose of this terrible traverse. He pressed his hand on his heart in reassurance of his 25 fidelity, and still spurred on. We now passed under the shade of an immense range of lofty buildings, whose gloomy and solid strength seemed to bid defiance to chance and time. A sudden yell appalled me. A ring of fire swept round its summit ; burning cordage, sheets 30 of canvass, and a shower of all things combustible, flew into the air above our heads. An uproar followed, un- like all that I had ever heard, a hideous mixture of howls, shrieks and groans. The flames rolled down the narrow street before us, and made the passage next to 35 impossible. While we hesitated, a huge fragment of the building heaved, as if in an earthquake, and fortunately for us fell inwards. The whole scene of terror was then open. The great ampitheatre of Statilius Taurus had caught fire : the stage, with its inflammable furni- 40 ture, was intensely blazing below. The flames were wheeling up, circle above circle, through the seventy- thousand seats that rose from the ground to the roof. I stood in unspeakable awe and wonder on the side of this 140 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 35, 36. colossal cavern, this mighty temple of the city of fire. At length a descending blast cleared away the smoke that covered t&e arena — The cause of tho.se horrid cries was now visible. The wild beasts kept for the games 45 had broken from their dens. — Maddened by affright and pain, lions, tigers, panthers, wolves, whole herds of the monsters of India and 'Africa, were enclosed in an impassible barrier of fire. They bounded, they fought, they screamed, they tore ; they ran howling round and 50 round the circle ; they made desperate leaps upwards through the blaze; they were flung back, and fell only to fasten their fangs in each other, and, with their parch- ing jaws bathed in blood, die raging. I looked anx- iously to see whether any human being was involved 55 in this fearful catastrophe. To my great relief, I could see none. The keepers and attendants had obviously escaped. As I expressed my gladness, I was startled by a loud cry from my guide, the first sound that I had heard him utter. He pointed to the opposite side of the 60 ampitheatre. There indeed sat an object of melancholy interest ; a man who had been either unable to escape, or had determined to die. Escape was now impossible. He sat in desperate calmness on his funeral pile. He was a gigantic Ethiopian slave, entirely naked. He 65 had chosen his place, as if in mockery, on the imperial throne ; the fire was above him and around him ; and under this tremendous canopy he gazed, without the movement of a muscle, on the combat of the wild beasts below ; a solitary sovereign, with the whole tremendous 70 game played for himself, and inaccessible to the power of man." Exercise 36. The African Chief. — Bryant. 1 Chained in the market place he stood, A man of giant frame, Amid the gathering multitude That shrunk to hear his name, — All stern of look and strong of limb, His dark eye on the ground — Ex. 36.] EXERCISES. PART II. 141 And silently they gazed on him, As on a lion bound. • 2 Vainly, but well, that chief had fought He was a captive now; Yet pride, that fortune humbles not, Was written on his brow. The scars his dark broad bosom wore Showed warrior true and brave ; A prince among his tribe before, He could not be a slave. 3 Then to his conqueror he spake — ( ^ ) " My brother is a king ; Undo this necklace from my neck, And take this bracelet ring. And send me where my brother reigns, And I will fill thy hands With store of ivory from the plains, And gold dust from the sands." 4 (=) " Not for thy ivory nor thy gold Will I unbind thy chain ; That bloody hand shall never hold The battle spear again. A price thy nation never gave Shall yet be paid for thee ; For thou shalt be the Christian's slave, In lands beyond the sea." 5 (..) Then wept the warrior chief, and bade To shred his locks away ; And, one by one, each heavy braid Before the victor lay. Thick were the plaited locks, and long, And deftly hidden there Shone many a wedge of gold, among The dark and crisped hair. 6 (<) " Look, feast thy greedy eye with gold Long kept for sorest need; Take it — (thou askest sums untold — ) And say that I am freed. Take it — ( — ) my wife, the long, long day 142 EXERCISES.— PART II. (Ex. 36, 37, Weeps by the cocoa tree, And my young children leave their play, And ask in vain for me." 7 " I take thy gold — but I have made Thy fetters fast and strong, And mean that by the cocoa shade Thy wife shall wait thee long." Strong was the agony that shook The captive's frame to hear, And the proud meaning of his look Was changed to mortal fear. 8 His heart was broken — crazed his brain, — At once his eye grew wild, He struggled fiercely with his chain, Whispered, and wept, and smiled ; Yet wore not long those fatal bands, For once, at shut of day, They drew him forth upon the sands, The foul hyena's prey. Exercise 37. Riches ofaPoor Barber. — Edinburgh Paper. Conscientious regard to the Sabbath, providentially rewarded. In the city of Bath, during the last century, .ived a barber, who made a practice of following his ordinary occupation on the Lord's day. As he was pursuing his morning's employment, he happened to look into some 5 place of worship, just as the minister was giving out his text, " Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy." He listened long enough to be convinced that he was constantly breaking the laws of God and man, by shav- ing and dressing his customers on the Lord's day. He 10 became uneasy, and went with a heavy heart to his sab- bath task. At length he took courage, and opened his mind to the minister, who advised him to give up sab- bath dressing, and worship God. He replied, beg- gary would be the consequence. He had a flourish- 15 ing trade, but it would almost all be lost. At length, Ex. 37.] EXERCISES. PART II. 143 after maiiy a sleepless night spent in weeping and pray- ing, he was determined to cast all his care upon God, as the more he reflected the more his duty became apparent. He discontinued sabbath dressing, went constantly and 20 early to the public services of religion, and soon enjoyed that satisfaction of mind which is one of the rewards of doing our duty, and that peace of God which the world can neither give nor take away. The consequences he foresaw actually followed. His genteel customers left 25 him, and he was nicknamed a Puritan or Methodist. He was obliged to give up his fashionable shop, and in the course of years became so reduced, as to take a cellar un- der the old market-house, and shave the common people. 30 One Saturday evening, between light and dark, a stran- ger from one of the coaches, asking for a barber, was directed by the ostler, to the cellar opposite. Coming in hastily, he requested to be shaved quickly, while they changed horses, as he did not like to violate the Sabbath. 35 This was touching the barber on a tender chord. — He burst into tears — asked the stranger to lend him a half- penny to buy a candle, as it was not light enough to shave him with safety. He did so, revolving in his mind the extreme poverty to which the poor man must 40 be reduced. When shaved, he said, " There must be something extraordinary in your history, which I have not now time to hear. Here is half a crown for you. When I return, I will call and investigate your case. What is your name ? " " William Reed," said the as- 45 tonished barber. " William Reed ! " echoed the stanger : " William Reed; by your dialect you are from the west?" " Yes, sir ! from Kingston, near Taunton ! " " William Reed, from Kingston, near Taunton ! What was your father's name ? " " Thomas." " Had he any brother ? " 50 " Yes, sir ; one after whom I was named ; but he went to the Indies, and as we never heard from him we sup- posed him to be dead." " Come along, follow me," said the stranger, " I am going to see a person who says his name is William Reed, of Kingston, near Taunton. 55 Come and confront him. If you prove to be indeed he who you say you are, I have glorious news for you. Your uncle is dead, and has left an immense fortune, which I will put you in possesion of, when all legal debts are removed." 144 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 37, 38. 60 They went by the coach — saw the pretended William Ree J, and proved him to be an impostor. The stranger, who was a pious attorney, was soon legally satisfied of the barber's identity, and told him that he had advertised him in vain. Providence had now thrown him in his 65 way, in a most extraordinary manner, and he had much pleasure in transferring a great many thousand pounds to a worthy man — the rightful heir of the property. Thus was man's extremity, God's opportunity. Had the poor barber possessed one half-penny, or even had credit for a 70 candle, he might have remained unknown for years ; but he trusted God, who never said, " Seek ye my face in vain." Exercise 38. Burning of the Fame and escape of the Passengers. New York Atlas. \ " We embarked on the 2d inst, and sailed at daylight for England, from the E. Indies, with every prospect of a quick and comfortable passage. The ship was every thing we could wish ; and having closed my charge 5 here, much to my satisfaction, it was one of the happiest days of my life. We were, perhaps, too happy ; for in the evening came a sad reverse. Sophia had just gone to bed, and I had thrown off half my clothes, when a cry of fire ! fire ! — roused us from our calm content, and in 10 five minutes the whole ship was in flames ! I ran to ex- amine whence the flames principally issued, and found that the fire had its origin immediately under our cabin. (=§=) Down with the boats! — Where is Sophia? Here. — The children ? Here. — A rope to the side ! Lower 15 Lady Raffles. Give her to me, says one. Fll take her, says the Captain. Throw the gunpowder overboard. It cannot be got at ; it is m the magazine, c*ose to the fire. Stand clear of the powder. Skuttle the water casks ! — Water ! Water ! — Where's Sir Stamford ? Come into the. 20 boat ; Nilson ! Nilson ! — come into the boat. Push off; push off. Stand clear of the after part of the ship. ( = ^) All this passed much quicker than I can write it. We pushed off, and as we did so, the flames burst out of our cabin window, and the whole after part of the ship Ex. 38.] EXERCISES. PART II. 145 was in flames. The masts and sails not taking lire, we moved to a distance sufficient to avoid the immediate explosion ; but the flames were coming out of the main hatchway ; and seeing the rest of the crew, with the 25 captain, still on board, we pulled back to her under the bows, so as to be more distant from the powder. As we approached, we perceived that the people on board were getting into another boat on the opposite side. She pushed off; we hailed her ; have you all on board ? 30 Yes, all save one. Who is he? Johnson, sick in his cot Can we save him ? No, impossible. The flames weie issuing from the hatchway. At this moment, the poor fellow, scorched, I imagine, by the flames, roared out most lustily, having run upon the deck. I will go 35 for him, says the captain. The two boats then came to- gether, and we took out some of the persons from the captain's boat, which was overladen. He then pulled under the bowsprit of the ship, and picked the poor fellow up. Are you all safe? Yes, we have got the 40 man ; all lives safe. Pull of from the ship. Keep your eye on the star, Sir Stamford. There is one scarcely visible. We then hauled close to each other, and found the cap- tain fortunately had a compass, but we had no light except 45 from the ship. Our distance from Bencoolen, we esti- mated to be about fifty miles, in a southwest direction. There being no landing place to the southward of Ben- coolen, our only chance was to regain that port The captain then undertook to lead, and we to follow, in a N. 50 N. E. course, as well as we could : no chance, no possi- bility being left, that we could again approach the ship ; for she was now one splendid flame, fore and aft, and aloft, her masts and sails in a blaze, and rocking to and fro, threatening to fall in an instant. There goes her mizzen 55 mast ; pull away my boys ; there goes the gunpowder. Thank G6d X thank God ! You may judge of our situation without further par- ticulars. The alarm was given at about twenty minutes past eight, and in less than ten minutes she was in flames. 60 There was not a soul on board at half past eight, and in less than ten minutes afterwards she was one grand mass of fire. My only apprehension was the want of boats to hold 146 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 38 the people, as there was not time to have got out the long boat, or to make a raft. All we had to rely upon were two small quarter-boats, which fortunately were lowered without accident ; and in these two, small, open 65 boats, without a drop of water or grain of food, or a rag of covering, except what we happened at the moment to have on our backs, we embarked on the ocean, thank- ful to God for his mercies ! Poor Sophia, having been taken out of her bed > had nothing on but her wrapper ; 70 neither shoes nor stockings. The children just as taken out of bed, whence one had been snatched after the flames had attacked it. In short, there was not time for any one to think of more than two things. Can the ship be saved % — No, Let us save ourselves then. All else was swal- 75 lowed up in one grand ruin. To make the best of our misfortune, we availed our- selves of the light from the ship to steer a tolerably good course towards the shore. She continued to burn till about midnight, when the saltpetre, which she had on board, 80 took fire, and sent up one of the most splendid and bril- liant flames that ever was seen, illuminating the horizon in every direction, to an extent not less than fifty miles, and casting that kind of blue light over us, which is of all others most horrible. She burnt and continued in 85 flame, in this style, for about an hour or two, when we lost sight of the object in clouds of smoke. Neither Nilson nor Mr. Bell, our medical friend, who had accompanied us, had saved their coats ; but the tail of mine, with a pocket handkerchief, served to 90 keep Sophia's feet warm, and we made breeches for the children w r ith our neck cloths. Rain now came on, but fortunately it was not of long continuance, and we got dry again. The night became serene and star light. We w r ere now certain of our course, and the men be- 95 haved manfully ; they rowed incessantly, and with good heart and spirit; and never did poor mortals look out more for day light and for land, than we did. Not that our sufferings or grounds of complaints were any thing to w T hat has often befallen others; but from So- 100 phia's delicate health, as well as my own, and the stor- my nature of our coast, I felt perfectly convinced that we were unable to undergo starvation, and exposure to sun and w r eather many days ; and aware of the rapidity Ex. 38, 39.J EXERCISES. PART II. 147 of the currents, I feared we might fall to the southward of the port. At daylight, we recognised the coast, and Rat Island, which gave us great spirits ; and though we found our- 105 selves much to the southward of the port, we considered ourselves almost at home. Sophia had gone through the night better than could have been expected, and we continued to pull on with all our strength. About eight or nine, we saw a ship standing to us from the Roads. 110 They had seen the flames on shore, and sent out ves- sels to our relief; and here certainly came a minister of Providence in the character of a minister of the Gos- pel ; for the first person I recognized was one of the missionaries. They gave us a bucket of water, and we 115 took the captain on board as a pilot. The wind,*how ever, was adverse, and we could not reach the shore, and took to the ship, where w r e got some refreshment, and shelter from the sun. By this time Sophia was quite exhausted, fainting continually. About two o'- 120 clock, we landed safe and sound : and no words of mine can do justice to the expressions of feeling, sympathy and kindness, by which we were hailed by every one. If any proof had been wanting, that my administration had been satisfactory here, we had it unequivocally 125 from all. There was not a dry eye ; and as we drove back to our former home, loud was the cry of — " God be praised." Exercise 39. The Hour of Prayer. — Mrs. Hemans. 1 Child, amidst tire flowers at play, While the red light fades away ; Mother, with thine earnest eye, Ever following silently; Father, by the breeze at eve Call'd thy harvest work to leave ; — Pray ! — Ere yet the dark hours be, Lift the heart and bend the knee. 2 Traveller, in the stranger's land, Far from thine own household band ; 148 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 3'J, 40. Mourner, haunted by the tone Of a voice from this world gone; Captive, in whose narrow cell Sunshine hath not leave to dwell, Sailor, on the darkening sea, Lift the heart, and bend the knee. 3 Warrior, that from battle won, Breathest now at set of sun : Woman, o'er the lowly slain, Weeping on his burial-plain ; Ye that triumph, ye that sigh, Kindred by one holy tie ! Heaven's first star alike ye see — «■ Lift the heart, and bend the knee I Exercise 40. My Mother's Grave. -^-Anonymous. It was thirteen years since my mother's death, when after a long absence from my native village, I stood be- side the sacred mound beneath which I had seen hei buried. Since that mournful period, a great change had 5 come over me. My childish years had passed away, and with them my youthful character. The world wa? altered too ; and as I stood at my mother's grave, 1 could hardly realize that I was the same thoughtless, happy creature, whose cheeks she so often kissed in an 10 excess of tenderness. But the varied events of thirteen years had not effaced the remembrance of that mother's smile. It seemed as if I had seen her but yesterday — as if the blessed sound of' her well remembered voice was in my ear. The gay dreams of my infancy and 15 childhood were brought back so distinctly to my mind, that had it not been for one bitter recollection, the tears I shed would have been gentle and refreshing. The cir- cumstance may seem a trifling one — but the thought of it now pains my heart, and I relate it, that those children 20 who have parents to love them, may learn to value them as they ought. My mother had been ill a long time, and I had be- Ex. 40] EXERCISES. PART II. 149 come so accustomed to her pale face and weak voice, that I was not frightened at them, as children usually are. At first, it is true, I sobbed violently ; but when, day after day, I returned from school, and found her the 25 same, I began to believe she would always be spared to me : but they told me she would die. One day when I had lost my place in the class, and done my work wrong side outward, I came home discour- aged, and fretful; — I went to my mother's chamber. She 30 was paler than usual, but she met me with the same af- fectionate smile that always welcomed my return. Alas ! when I look b c> .ck, through the lapse of thirteen years, 1 think my heart must have been stone, not to have melted by it. She requested me to go down stairs, and 35 bring her a glass of water ; — I pettishly asked why she did not call a domestic to do it. With a look of mild re- proach which I shall never forget if I live to be a hundred years old, she said 'and will not my daughter bring a glass of water, for her poor sick mother?' 40 I went and brought her the water, but I did not do it kindly. Instead of smiling and kissing her, as I wa3 wont to do, I set the glass down very quickly, and left the room. After playing a short time, I went to bed ^without bidding my mother good night; but when alone 45 in my room, in darkness and silence, I remembered how pale she looked, and how her voice trembled when she said, ' Will not my daughter bring a glass of water for her poor sick mother ! ' I could n't sleep. I stole into her chamber to ask forgiveness. She had sunk into an 50 easy slumber, and they told me I must not waken her. I did not tell any one what troubled me, but stole ba'ek to my bed, resolved to rise early in the morning, and tel] her how sorry I was for my conduct. The sun was shining brightly when I awoke, and hur- 55 rying on my clothes, I hastened to my mother's cham- ber. She was dead ! she never spoke more — never smiled upon me again — and when I touched the hand that used to rest upon my head in blessing, it was so cold that it made me start. I bowed down by her side, and sobbed 60 in the bitterness of my heart. I thought then I wished I might die, and be buried with her ; and old as I now am, I would give worlds were they mine to give, could my mother but have lived to tell me she forgave my child- 13* 15® EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 40, 41. ish ingratitude. But I cannot call her back ; and when 65 I stand by her grave, and whenever I think of her manifold kindness, the memory of that reproachful look she gave me, will bite like a serpent, and sting like an adder. Exercise 41. A Tale of Waterloo. — Anonymous. About the middle of the night I received a visit from a young man, with whom I had formed an intimate ac- quaintance. He was the. only son of a gentleman of large property in the South of Ireland ; but having formed an 5 attachment to a beautiful girl in humble life, and married her against thevrill of his father, he had been disinherited and turned out of doors. ***** Depressed as I was in spirit myself, I was struck with the melancholy tone in which that night he accosted me. 10 He felt a presentiment, he said, that he would not sur- vive the battle of the ensuing day. He wished to bid me farewell, and to entrust to my care his portrait, which, with his farewell blessing, was all he had to bequeath to his wife and child. Absence had renewed, 15 or rather doubled, all his fondness for the former, and portrayed her in all the witching loveliness that had won his boyish affection. He talked of her while the tears ran down his cheeks, and conjured me, if ever I reach- ed England, to find her out, and make known her case 20 to his father. In vain, while I pledged my word to the fulfilment of his wishes, I endeavored to cheer him with better hopes. He listened in mournful silence to all I could suggest ; flung his arms round my neck ; wrung my hand and we parted. I saw him but once again. 25 It was during the hottest part of the next and terrible day, when with a noise that drowned even the roar of artillery, Sir William Ponsonby's brigade of cavalry dashed past our hollow square, bearing before them in that tremendous charge, the flower of Napoleon's chivalry. 30 Far ahead even of his national regiment, I saw the man- ly figure of my friend. It was but for a moment. The next instant he was fighting in the centre of the enemy's squadron ; and the clouds of smoke, that closed in mas- Ex. 41.] Exercises. — part ii. 151 ses round friend and foe, hid him from my view. When 35 the battle was over, and all was hushed hut the groans of the wounded, and the triumphant shouts and rolling drums of the victorious Prussians, who continued the pursuit during the entire of the night, I quitted the shattered re- mains of the gallant regiment in whose ranks I had that 10 day the honor of standing. The moon was wading through scattered masses of dark and heavy clouds, when I commenced my search for my friend. The light was doubtful and uncertain ; yet it was easy to keep along the track that marked the last career of Ponsonby. 15 Shuddering, lest in every face I should recognise my friend, I passed by, and sometimes trod upon the cold and motionless heaps, which now looked so unlike the "fiery masses of living valour" that a few hours before, had commingled, with a concussion more dreadful than 50 the earthquake's shock. Although I at first felt a certain conviction of his fate, I afterwards began to hope that the object of my search had, contrary to his prediction, survived the terrible encounter. I was about to retire, when a heap of slain, in a ploughed field, on which the 55 moon was now shining clearly, attracted my notice. Literally piled on each other, were the bodies of five cuirassiers; and lying beneath his horse was the dead body of my friend. You may form some idea of my as- tonishment, on finding, by a nearer inspection, that his 60 head was supported, and his neck entwined, by the arms of a female, from whom also the spirit had taken its de- parture ; but you can form no conception of the horror [ felt at beholding, in this scene of carnage and desola- tion, in the very arms of death, and on the bosom of a 65 corpse, a living infant, sleeping calmly, with the moon- beam resting on its lovely features, and a smile playing on its lips, as if angels were guarding its slumbers, and inspiring its dreams ! And who knows but perhaps they were? The conviction now flashed on my mind, that 70 these were the wife and child of my unfortunate friend; and the letters we afterwards found on the person of the former, proved that I was right in my conjecture. Driven aside by. the gale of pleasure or ambition, or by the storms of life, the affections of man may veer ; but un- 75 changeable and unchanging is a true heart in woman. " She loves, and loves forever." This faithful wife had 152 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 41, 42. followed her husband through a land of strangers, and over the pathless sea; through the crowded city and the bustling camp, till she found him stretched on the battle- 80 field. Perhaps she came in time to receive his parting sigh, and her spirit, quitting its worn-out tenement of clay, winged its way with his to Him who gave them being. With the assistance of some of my comrades, I consigned this hapless pair to the earth, wrapped in the 85 same military cloak ; and enveloping the infant, this dear child of my adoption, in my plaid, I returned to the spot where our regiment lay. Exercise 42. The Righteous never forsaken. — New-York Spectator. It was Saturday night, and the widow of the Pine Cottage sat by her blazing fagots with her five tattered children at her side, endeavouring by listening to the artlessness of their prattle, to dissipate the heavy gloom 5 that pressed upon her mind. For a year, her own feeble hands had provided for her helpless family, for she had no supporter : she thought of no friend in all the wide, unfriendly world around. But that mysterious Provi- dence, the wisdom of whose ways are above human com- 10 prehension, had visited her with wasting sickness, and her little means had become exhausted. It was now, too, midwinter, and the snow lay heavy and deep through all the surrounding forests, while storms still seemed gathering in the heavens, and the driving w r ind roared 1 5 amidst the bounding pines, and rocked her puny man- sion. The last herring smoked upon the coals before her ; it was the only article of food she possessed, and no won- der her forlorn, desolate state brought up in her lone bo- 20 som all the anxieties of a mother, when she looked upon her children ; and no wonder, forlorn as she was, if she suffered the heart swellings of despair to rise, even though she knew that he whose promise is to the widow and to the orphan, cannot forget his word. Providence had 25 many years before taken from her her eldest son, who went from his forest home, to try his fortune on the high seas, since which she heard no note or tidings of him , Ex. 42.] EXERCISES. PART II. 15S and in latter time, had, by the hand of death, deprived her of the companion and staff of her earthly pilgrimage, 30 in the person of her husband. Yet to this hour she-had been upborne; she had not only been able to provide for her little flock, but had never lost an opportunity of ministering to the wants of the miserable and destitute. The indolent may well bear with poverty, while the 35 ability to gain sustenance remains. The individual who has but his own wants to supply, may suffer with forti- tude the winter of want ; his affections are not wounded, his heart not wrung. The most desolate in populous cities may hope, for charity has not quite closed her 40 hand and heart, and shut her eyes on misery. But the industrious mother of helpless and depending children — far from the reach of human charity, has none of these to console her. And such an one was the widow of the Pine cottage ; but as she bent over the fire, and took 45 up the last scanty remnant of food, to spread before her children, her spirits seemed to brighten up, as by some sudden and mysterious impulse, and Cowper's beautiful lines came uncalled across her mind — . Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace ; Behind a frowning Providence He hides a smiling face. The smoked herring was scarcely laid upon the table, when a gentle rap at the door, and loud barking of a 55 dog, attracted the attention of the family. The children flew to open it, and a weary traveller, in tattered gar- ments, and apparently indifferent health, entered and begged a lodging, and a mouthful of food; said he " it is now twenty-four hours since I tasted bread." The 6C widow's heart bled anew as under a fresh complication of distresses; for her sympathies lingered not round her fireside. She hesitated not even now; rest and share of all she had she proffered to the stranger. "We sha. not be forsaken ;" said she, "or suffer deeper for an act 65 of charity." The traveller drew near the board — but when he saw the scanty fare, he raised his eyes towards Heaven with astonishment — "and is this all your store?" said he — " and a share of this do you offer to one you know not? 70 then never saAV I charity before ! but madam," said he, 154 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 42, 43, continuing, " do you not wrong your children by giving a part of your last mouthful to a stranger ?" ** Ah," said the poor widow, and the tear drops gushed into her eyes as she said it, " I have a boy, a darling son, somewhere 75 on the face of .the wide world, unless Heaven has taken him away, and I only act towards you, as I would that others should act towards him. God, who sent manna from heaven can provide for us as he did for Israel — and how should I this night offend him, if my son should 80 be a wanderer, destitute as you, and he should have provided for him a home, even poor as this — were I to turn you unrelieved away." The widow ended, and the stranger, springing from his seat, clasped her in his arms — "God indeed has 85 provided your son a home — and has given him wealth to reward the goodness of his benefactress — my mother ! oh my mother !" It was her long lost son; returned to her bosom from the Indies. He had chosen that disguise that he might 90 the more completely surprise his family ; and never was surprise more perfect, or followed by a sweeter cup 01 joy. That humble residence in the forest was exchang- ed for one comfortable, and indeed beautiful, in the val- ley, and the widow lived long with her dutiful son, in 95 the enjoyment of worldly plenty, and in the delightful employments of virtue, and at this day the passer by is pointed to the willow that spreads its branches above her grave. Exercise 43. To Printers. — Fisher Ames. It seems as if newspaper wares were made to suit a market, as much as any other. The starers, and won- derers, and gapers, engross a very large share of the at- tention of all the sons of the type. Extraordinary events 5 multiply upon us surprisingly. Gazettes, it is seriously to be feared, will not long allow room to any thing, that is not loathsome or shocking. A newspaper is pro- nounced to be very lean and destitute of matter, if it con tains no account of murders, suicides, prodigies or mon- 10 strous births. Ex. 43.J EXERCISES. PART II. 155 Some of these tales excite horror, and others disgust : yet the fashion reigns, like a tyrant, to relish wonders, and almost to relish nothing else. Is this a reasonable taste ; or is it monstrous and worthy of ridicule ? Is the 15 history of Newgate the only one worth reading'? Are oddities only to be hunted % Pray tell us, men of ink, if our free presses are- to diffuse information, and we, the poor ignorant people, can get it no other way than by newspapers, what knowledge we are to glean from the 29 blundering lies, or the tiresome truths about thunder' storms, that, strange to tell ! kill oxen or burn barns ? The crowing of a hen is supposed to forebode cuck- oldom ; and the ticking of a little bug in the wall threatens yellow fever. It seems really as if our news- 25 papers were busy to spread superstition. — Omens, and dreams, and prodigies, are recorded, as if they were worth minding. One would think our gazettes were intended for Roman readers, who were silly enough to make account of such things. We ridicule the papists 30 for their credulity; yet, if all the trumpery of cur papers is believed, we have little right to laugh at any set of people on earth ; and if it is not believed, why is it printed ? Surely, extraordinary events have not the best title to 35 our studious attention. To study nature or man, we ought to know things that are in the ordinary course, not the unaccountable things that happen out of it. This country is said to measure seven hundred millions of acres, and it is inhabited by almost six millions of 40 people. Who can doubt, then, that a great many crimes will be committed, and a great many strange things will happen every seven years ? There will be thun- der showers, that will split tough white oak trees ; and hail storms, that will cost some farmers the full amount 45 of twenty shillings to mend their glass windows ; there will be taverns, and boxing matches, and elec- tions, and gouging, and drinking, and love, and murder, and running in debt, and running away, and suicide. Now, if a man supposes eight, or ten, or twenty dozen 50 of these amusing events will happen in a single year, is he not just as wise as another man, who reads fifty col- umns of amazing particulars, and of course, knows that they have happened ? 156 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 43, 44. This state has almost one hundred thousand dwelling 55 houbes : it would be strange, if all of them should es- cape fire for twelve months. Yet is it very profitable for a man to become a deep student of all the accidents, by which they are consumed % He should take good care of his chimney corner, and put a fender before the 60 back-log before he goes to bed. Having done this, he may let his aunt or grandmother read by day, or meditate by night, the terrible newspaper articles of fires. Some of the shocking articles in the papers raise sim- ple, and very simple, wonder ; some, terror ; and some, 65 horror and disgust. Now what instruction is there in these endless wonders? — Who is the wiser or happier for reading the accounts of them % On the contrary, do they not shock tender minds, and addle shallow brains ? Worse than this happens ; for some eccentric minds are 70 turned to mischief by such accounts, as they receive of troops of incendiaries burning our cities : the spirit of imitation is contagious ; and boys are found unaccount- ably bent to do as men do. When the man flew from the steeple of the North Church fifty years ago, every 75 unlucky boy thought of nothing but flying from a sign- post. Exercise 44. Washington. — Pierpont. [The following original hymn was sung at the celebration on the 22d of February, il .ne Old South Church, Boston.] To thee, beneath whose eye Each circling century Obedient rolls, Oar nation, in its prime, Looked with a faith sublime, And trusted in " the time That tried men's souls — " When, from this gate of heaven,* People and priest were driven * The Old South Church was taken possession of by the British, while they held Boston, and converted into barracks for the cavalry, the pews being cut up for fuel, or used in constructing stalls for the horses. Ex, 44, 45] EXERCISES. FART II. _ 157 By fire and sword, And, where thy saints had prayed, The harness' d war-horse neighed, And horsemen's trumpets brayed in harsh accord. Nor was our fathers' trust, Thou Mighty. One and Just, Then put to shame: " Up to the hills" for light, Looked they in peril's night, And from yon guardian height,* Deliverance came. There, like an angel form, Sent down to still the storm, Stood WASHINGTON! Clouds broke and roll'd away; Foes fled in pale dismay ; Wreathed were his brows with bay, When war was done. God of our sires and sons, Let other Washingtons Our country bless, And, like the brave and wise Of by-gone centuries, Show that true greatness lies In righteousness. Exercise 45. Miserable case of a Weaver. — Bell's Messenger. A very worthy poor weaver applied to his master about three weeks since, begging earnestly for work, stating that he was in great want, and would thankfully do any thing for the means of supporting his existence. 5 His master assured him he did not want any more goods, his stock being very heavy, without any sale, and that he could not give out more work to any one. The man pressed very much, and at length his master said, ♦From his position on " Dorchester Heights," that overlook the »tiwn, General Washington succeeded in compelling the British forces U evacuate Boston. 14 158 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 45. " Well, Jonathan, if it is absolutely necessary for you 10 to weave a piece to prevent you from starving, I will let you have it, but cannot give you more than Is. for it (2s. is the regular price,) for I really do not want any more goods made up for a long time to come." " Let me have it, master, I beg," said the poor man, 15 "whatever you pay me for it, pray let me have it." The piece was given to him to weave, and at the end of two days he brought it home, and on carrying it to his master begged of him to give him Is. 6d. for it, saying how much he was distressed for money. His master paid him the Is. 6d., and the man went 20 away. The master feeling very uncomfortable about the poor man, thinking that the earnestness ( his manner must arise from excessive want, dete jined on following him home. He went to the cottage of the weaver, and found the wife alone in the lower room, 25 making a little gruel over a poor fire. " Well, Mary," said the master, "where is your husband?" "Oh ! sir, he is just come in from your house, and being very faint and weary, he is just gone to lie down in his bed." " I will go up and see him, Mary ;" and immediately 30 he went to the upper room, where he saw the poor man lying on his bed, just in the agonies of death, with his mouth open, and his hands clasped; and after a short convulsion he expired. The master was very much distressed, and came down stairs, hoping to be able to 35 save the wife, who was in a very emaciated condition; she had just poured the gruel into a basin, intending to carry it up to her husband. The master said, " Come, Mary, take a little yourself first." " No, sir," said she, " not a drop will I taste till Jonathan has had some. 40 Neither of us have had anything within our lips but wa- ter for the two days we were weaving your piece ; and I thought it best to make a little gruel for us, before we took any thing stronger, as it is so long since we tasted food ; but, sir, Jonathan shall have it first." The mas- 45 ter insisted on her taking some herself before she went up to her husband, but she positively refused it: at last rinding that he could not prevail on her to touch the gruel, he was obliged to tell her that her husband was dead. The poor woman set down the basin of gruel, sunk on 50 the floor, and immediately expired. Ex. 46.] EXERCISES. PART II. 159 Exercise 46. The Tomb of Washington. — Anonymous. Part I. We thought to gallop to Mount Vernon, but the chance of missing the way, and the tiresomeness of a gig, induced us to. take a hackney coach. Accordingly we took possession, and ordered it on with all convenient 5 despatch. But haste was out of the question ; — for never was worse road than that to Mount Vernon. Still, in the season of foliage, it may be a romantic route. As it was, we saw nothing to attract the eye, save a few seats, scattered among the hills, and occupying some pictur- 10 esque eminences. On we went — and yet onward — through all variety of riding; hill and vale, meadow and woodland, until a sheet of water began to glimmer through the dim trees, and announce our approach again to the Potomac. In a few moments, a turn in the wild and un- 15 even road brought us in view of the old mansion-house of Washington. We drove to the entrance of the old gateway, and alighted in the midst of what appeared to be a little village, so numerous and scattered were the buildings. About those which we first came upon, there 20 was an air of dilapidation and neglect that was rather unpromising. They were of brick and devoted to the lower menial purposes of the place. As we advanced, the houses that covered the grounds, had a neater ap- pearance ; and when we came in view of the edifice, ol 25 which all these were the outworks or appendages, we were at once struck with the simple beauty of the struct- ure, and the quiet and secluded loveliness of its situa- tion. The roof is crowned with a little cupola or steeple, a common thing upon the old seats of rich pro- 30 prietors of Virginia, and the building itself is two stories in height. The portion nearest the river, and which is fronted with a light piazza, 'is an addition which was made to the mansion by the general. By this arrange- meiit the beauty of the whole must have been much in- 35 creased. The style of the work, and the painting, have the effect of a freestone front: and though there is no- thing imposing or grand in the appearance of the house, still there is an air of substance and comfort about it, that after all is far more satisfying than magnificence. Send- 40 ing in our cards, by an old servant, we were soon invited to enter. Not having letters to Mr. W. the present 160 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 46. proprietor, who is now very ill, we did not expect to see any of the family. A servant accordingly, at our re- quest, merely accompanied us through the rooms made 45 interesting by the hallowed associations that came fast upon us as we traversed them. In the hall or entry, hangs, in a glass case, the key of the Bastile, which every body has heard of. It was presented to Wash- ington by Lafayette. Under it is a picture of that re- 50 nowned fortress. This key is by no means formidable for its size, being about as large as a bank key, and of a shape by no means mysterious enough for a disserta- tion. The only curious portion of it, is that grasped by the hand in turning. It is solid and of an oval shape, 55 and appeared to me, for I always love to be curious in these matters, to have been broken, on a time, and then soldered or brazed again. It proDably had some hard wrenches in its day. On the whole it appeared to be a very amiable key, and by no means equal to all the turns 50 it must have seen in the Revolution. We were first shown into a small room, which was set apart as the study of Washington. Here he was wont to transact all his business of State, in his retirement. It was hung with pictures and engravings of revolutionary 65 events ; and among the miniatures was one of himself, said to be the best likeness ever taken. Another room was shown us, which had nothing remarkable about it, and we then passed into a larger one, finished with great taste, and containing a portrait of Judge Washington. 70 A beautiful organ stood in the corner, and the fire place was adorned by a mantel of most splendid workmanship, in bass-relief. It is of Italian marble, and was presented to Washington by Lafayette. This part of our visit was soon over. There was little to see in the house, and y 5 the portions referred to were all to which we were admit- ted. I could not help admiring, however, the neatness and air of antiquity together, which distinguished the several rooms through which we passed. The/e was something, also, fanciful in their arrangement, that was BO quite pleasing to my eye, far more so than the mathe- matical exactness of modern and more splendid mansions. Passing from the house, down a rude and neglected path- way, and then over a little broken, but already verdant ground, we came to an open space, and found ourselves 85 standing before the humble tomb of George Washington. Ex. 46.] EXERCISES. PART II. 161 It was a happy moment to visit the spot. There was something in the time, fortunate for the feelings. The very elements seemed in accordance with the season. The day was beautiful — the sunlight was streaming full 90 upon the trees round about, and glowing with a mellow beam upon the grave ; — the place was quiet and imbo- somed, and the only sound that we heard, save that of our own hearts, was the voice of the wind through the pines, or of the waters as they broke upon the shore be- 95 low us. Who can analyze his feelings as he stands be- fore that sepulchre ! Who can tell the story of his asso- ciations, or do any justice by his tongue or his pen to the emotions which the memories of the past awaken there ! The history of a whole country is overpowering him at 100 once. Its struggles — its darkness — its despair — its vic- tory rush upon him. Its gratitude, its glory, and its loss, pass before him — and in a few moments he lives through an age of interest and wonder. Strange power of human mind ! What an intimation does this rapid communion 105 with the past, and with the spirits of the past, give, at once, of their immortality and our own ! But it is vain to follow out these feelings here. They would fill volumes. Part II. There is no inscription upon the tomb. The simple words " Washington Family," chiseled in granite, surmounts the plain brick work. The masonry was originally wretched, and the plaster is now falling from 5 it. The door k well secured, and of iron. There is a total absence of everything like parade or circumstance about the resting place of the Hero. He sleeps there in the midst of the very simplicities of nature. Laurel trees wave over his dust, on every side, and the pilgrim 10 who goes to stand by his grave, finds no careful enclosure to forbid his too near approach. In short, Washington rests in an obscurity — just that obscurity which he would have chosen, but which seems hardly compatible with the vast gratitude and deep reverence of a great country. 15 As we were standing upon this spot, a couple of spaniels came bounding along, and following close, was an old servant of the family, and formerly a slave of Washington. On examining him, we found he was born on the place, and recollected his master, and all he said, with great 20 distinctness. He was a very aged negro, and quite gray. 14* 162 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 46, 47. I found there was something to be gathered from this ancient of the family — and accordingly, as I stood lean- ing upon the broken gate, which swung before the door 25 of the old tomb, put him in the train, by a few ques- tions. " In front of the new grave-place, yonder," said he, "lie buried a hundred people of colour." These, it seemed, were slaves of the plantation, who from time to time had died here. He spoke of the great kindness 30 of Washington, and his emancipating a hundred of his people. " His wife did the same," added he. There were now, he said, but about fifteen attached to the es- tablishment. Passing from one thing to another without much connection, he went on to say, referring to Wash- 35 ington — " I never see that man laugh to show his teeth — he done all his laughing inside" This I thought worth a page of description- We then recurred to Lafayette's visit in 1825. " We were obliged to tote him all about," said he — -by which I understood that the general was so 40 overcome, that he was literally supported by the arms of attendants. I inquired how he appeared at the tomb. "He cried like a little infant." "Did he go in?" I asked. " O yes — he went in, sir — alone — and he made a mighty long talk there — but I don't know what it was 45 about." All these little things were jewels. I loved to hear such simple narrations, from such a source, and it was with reluctance I turned away, after gathering a relic or two, and followed our old guide up to the house again. But we had seen all we could see, and after glancing at 50 the garden and greenhouse, which appeared in- all the coming beauty of spring, and turning one more me- lancholy gaze upon the cluster of buildings, which had once been improved by the great One who now slept in their shadow, we entered our carriage, and rode slowly 55 away from Mount Vernon. Exercise 47. Destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem, by fire, under Titus. — Millman. Part I. It was the 10th of August, the day already darkened in the Jewish calender by the destruction of the former Tempi j, by the King of Babylon : it was almost passed. Titus withdrew again into Antonia; intending the next Ex. 47.] EXERCISER. FART II. 163 5 morning to make a general assault. The cpiet summer evening came on ; the setting sun shone for the last time oh the snow white walls, and glistening pinnacles of the Temple roof. Titus had retired to rest ; when suddenly a wild and terrible cry was heard, and a man came rush- 10 ing in, announcing that the temple was on fire. Some of the besieged, notwithstanding the repulse in the morning, had sallied out to attack the men who Avere busily em- ployed in extinguishing the fires about the cloisters. The Romans not merely drove them back, but entering the 15 sacred space with them, forced their way to the temple. A soldier, without orders, mounted on the shoulders of one of his comrades, threw a blazing brand into a gilded small door, on the north side of the chambers, in the outer building or porch. The flames sprung up at once. The 20 Jews uttered one simultaneous shriek and grasped their swords with a furious determination of revenging and perishing in the ruins of the temple. Titus rushed down with the utmost speed; he shouted, he made signs to his soldiers to quench the fires ; his voice w r as drowned, and 25 his signs unnoticed, in the blind confusion. The legiona- ries either could not, or would not hear; they rushed on, trampling each other down in their furious haste, or stumbling over the crumbling ruins perished with the enemy. Each exhorted the other, and each hurled his 30 blazing brand into the inner part of the edifice ; and then hurried to the wort of carnage. The unarmed and de- fenceless people were slain in thousands ; they lay heaped, like sacrifices, round the altar ; the steps of the temple ran with streams of blood, which washed down the bo- 35 dies that lay about. Titus found it impossible to check the rage of the sol- diery ; he entered with his officers, and surveyed the in- terior of the sacred edifice. The splendour filled them w T ith wonder ; and as the flames had not yet penetrated 40 to the holy place, he made a last effort to save it, and springing, forth, again exhorted the soldiers to stay the progress of the conflagration. The centurion Liberalis endeavored to force obedience with his staff of. office; but even respect for the Emperor gave way to the furi- 45 ous animosity against the Jews, to the fierce excitement of battle, and to the insatiable hope of plunder. The soldiers saw every thing around them radiant with gold, 164 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 47. which s^one chzzlingly in the wild light of the flames j they supposed that incalculable treasures were laid up in 50 the sanctuary. A soldier, unperceived, thrust a lighted torch between the hinges of the door ; the whole build- ing was in flames in an instant. The blinding smoke and fire forced the officers to retreat ; and the noble edi- fice was left to its fate. Part II. It was an appalling spectacle to the Roman — what was it to the Jew? The whole summit of the hill, which commanded the city, blazed like a volcano. One after another the buildings fell in, with a tremendous crash, 5 and were swallowed up in the fiery abyss. The roofs of cedar were like sheets of flame ; the gilded pinnacles shone like spikes of red light; the gate towers sent up tall columns of flame and smoke. The neighbouring hills were lighted up ; and dark groups of people were 10 seen watching in horrible anxiety the progress of the destruction: the walls and heights of the upper city were crowded with faces, some pale with the agony of despair, others scowling unavailing vengeance. The shouts of the Roman soldiery, as they ran to and fro, and the 15 howlings of the insurgents who were perishing in the flames, mingled with the roaring of the conflagration and the thundering sound of falling timbers. The echoes of the mountains replied, or brought back the shrieks of the people on the heights : all along the walls, resounded 20 screams and wailings ; men, who were expiring with famine, rallied their remaining strength to utter a cry of anguish and desolation. The slaughter within was even more dreadful than the spectacle from without. Men and women, old and 25 young, insurgents and priests, those who fought and those who intreated mercy were hewn down in indis- criminate carnage. The numbers of the slain exceed- ed that of the slayers. The legionaries had to clamber over heaps of dead, to carry on the work of extermina- 30 tion. John, at the head of some of his troops, cut his way through, first into the outer court of the temple ; afterwards into the upper city. Some of the priests up- on the roof wrenched off the gilded spikes, with their sockets of lead, and used them as missiles against the Ex. 47, 48.] EXERCISES.— PART II. 105 35 Romans below. Afterwards they tied to a part of the wall, about fourteen feet wide: they were summoned to surrender ; but two of them, Mair, son of Belgo, and Joseph, son of Dalia, plunged headlong into the flames. No part escaped the fury of the Romans. The treas- 40 uries, with all their wealth of money, jewels, and costly robes — the plunder which the zealots had laid up — were totally destroyed. Nothing remained but a small part of the outer cloister, in which 6000 unarmed and defence- less people, with women and children, had taken refuge. 45 These poor wretches, like multitudes of others, had been led up to the temple by a false prophet, who had pro- claimed that God commanded all the Jews to go up to trie temple, where he would display his Almighty power to save his.people. The soldiers set fire to the building, 50 and every soul perished. Exercise 48. The, Charnel Ship — Charleston Courier, The night — the long dark night at last, Passed fearfully away. 'Mid crashing ice, and howling blast, They hailed the dawn of day, — Which broke to cheer the whaler's crew, And w r ide around its gray light threw, The storm had ceased — its wrath had rent The icy wall assunder — And many a piercing glance they sent Around in awe and wonder — And sailor hearts their rude praise gave, To God, that morn, from o'er the wave. The breeze blew freshly, and the sun Pour'd his full radiance far, On heaps of icy fragments won — Sad trophies — in the past night's war Of winds and waters — and in piles, Now drifted by, bright shining Isles. Bui low ! — still farther off appears A form more dim and dark; And anxious eyes, and hopes, and fears, 166 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 48. Its slow, strange progress mark ; As it moves tow'rds them by the breeze - Borne onward from more Northern Seas. 5 Near, and more near — and can it be, (More vent'rous than their own,) A Ship, whose seeming ghost they see, Among those icebergs thrown ; With broken masts, dismantled all, And dark sails, like a funeral pall ? 6 ( ) " God of the Mariner ! protect Her inmates as she moves along, Through perils which, ere now, had w r reck'd — But that thine arm is strong." (°) Ha ! she has struck — she grounds — she stands •• Still as if held by giant hands. 7 " Quick, man the boat /" — away they sprang, The stranger ship to aid ; And loud their hailing voices rang, And rapid speed they made : But all in silence, deep, unbroke, The vessel stood — none answering spoke. 8 'Twas fearful — not a sound arose — No moving thing was there, To interrupt the dread repose Which filled each heart with fear; On deck they silent stepped, and sought, 'Till one, a man, their sad sight caught. 9 He was alone — the damp, chill mould Of years hung on his cheek ; A pen in his hand had meekly told The tale no voice might speak : " Seventy days," the record stood, " Had they been in the ice, and wanted food." 10 They took his book, and turned away, But soon discovered where The wife in her death-sleep, gently lay, Near him, in life most dear — Who, seated beside his young heart's pride, Long years before had calmly died. Ex. 48, 49.] EXERCISES. PART II. 107 11 Oh, wedded love ! how beautiful, How pure a thing thou art : Whose influence even in death can rule, And triumph o'er the heart ; Can cheer life's roughest walk, and shed A holy light around the dead. 12 Th^re was a solemn, sacred feeling Kindled in every breast ; And softly from the cabin stealing, They left them to their rest — The fair, the young, the constant pair, They left them with a blessing there ; 13 And to their boat returning, each With thoughtful brows and haste, And o'ercharged hearts, too full for speech, * Left 'midst the frozen waste, That Charnel Ship, which years before, Had sail'd from distant Albion's shore. 1 4 They left her in the icebergs, where Few venture to intrude ; A monument of death and fear, 'Mid Ocean's solitude ! And, grateful for their own release, Thanked God, and sought their homes in pea:e. Exercise 49. Life. — A Spanish Poem. — Edinburgh Review. 1 Oh ! while we eye the rolling tide, Down which our flowing minutes glide Away so fast ; Let us the present hour employ, And deem each future dream a joy Already past. 2 Let no vain hope deceive the mind — No happier let us hope to find, To-morrow than to-day ; Our golden dreams of yore were bright, Like them the present shall delight — Like them decay. 168 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 49, 50. 3 Our lives like hasting streams must be, That into one ingulfing sea, Are doomed to fall — The sea of death, whose waves roll on, O'er king and kingdom, crown and throne, And swallow all. 4 Alike the river's lordly tide, Alike the humble riv'let's glide To that sad wave ; Death levels poverty and pride, And rich and poor sleep side by side Within the grave. 5 Our birth is but a starting place ; Life is the running of the race : And death the goal ; There all those glittering toys are bought, That path alone, of all unsought, Is found of all. 6 Say then how poor and little worth Are all those glittering toys of earth, That lure us here % Dreams of a sleep that death must break, Alas ! before it bids us wake, Ye disappear ! Exercise 50. Death and the Drunkard,. — Anonymous. 1 His form was fair, his cheek was health ; His word a bond, his purse was wealth j With wheat his field was covered o'er, Plenty sat smiling at his door. His wife the fount of ceaseless joy ; How laughed his daughter, played his boy ; His library, though large, was read, Till half its contents decked his head. At morn 'twas health, wealth, pure delight, 'Twas health, wealth, peace and bliss at night ; I wished not to disturb his bliss — 'Tis gone! but all the fault was his. Ex, 50.] EXERCISES.— PART II. 169 2 The social glass I saw him seize, The more with festive wit to please, Daily increase his love of cheer — Ah, little thought he / was near ! Gradual indulgence on him stole, Frequent became the midnight bowl. I in that bowl the headache placed, Which, with the juice, his lips embraced. Shame next I mingled with the draught ; Indignantly he drank and laughed. 3 In the bowl's bottom Bankruptcy I placed — he drank with tears and glee. Remorse did I into it pour ; He only sought the bowl the more. I mingled next joint torturing pain • Little the less did he refrain. The dropsy in the cup I mixed ; Still to his mouth the cup was fixed. My emissaries thus in vain I sent the mad wretch to restrain. 4 On the bowl's bottom then myself.. I threw ; the most abhorrent elf Of all that mortals hate or dread; And thus in horrid whispers said — " Successless ministers I've sent, Thy hastening ruin to prevent ; Their lessons nought — then here am I Think not my threatening to defy. Swallow this, this thy last 'twill be, For with it thou must swallow me" 5 Haggard his eyes, upright his hair, Remorse his lips, his cheeks despair ; With shaking hand the bowl he clasp' d, My meatless limbs his carcass grasp'd And bore it to the churchyard — where Thousands, ere I would call, repair. 6 Death speaks — ah, reader, dost thou hear ? Hast thou no lurking cause to fear ? Has not o'er thee the sparkling bowl 15 -7C EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 50, 51 Constant, commanding, sly control? Betimes reflect, betimes beware — Though ruddy, healthful now and fair, Before slow reason lose the sway, Reform — postponed another day, Too soon may mix with common clay. Exercise 51. The plague in London. — Rothelan. In its malignancy, it engrossed the ill of all other mal- adies, and made doctors despicable. Of a potency equal to death, it possessed itself of all his armouries, and was itself the death of every other mortal distemper. The 5 touch, yea, the very sight of the infected, was deadly ; and its signs were so sudden, that families seated in hap- piness at their meals have seen the plague spot begin to redden, and have wildly scattered themselves forever. The cement of society was dissolved by it. Mothers, 10 when they saw the sign of the infection on the babes at their bosom, cast them from them with abhorrence. Wild places were sought for shelter ; — some went into ships and anchored themselves afar ofT on the waters. But the angel that was pouring the vial had a foot on the J 5 sea, as well as on the dry land. No place was so wild, that the plague did not visit — none so secret that the quick-sighted pestilence did not discover, none could fly that it did not overtake. It was as if Heaven had repented the making of man- 20 kind, and was shovelling them all into the sepulchre. Justice was forgotten, and her courts deserted. The ter- rified jailers fled from the felons that were in festers — the innocent and the guilty leagued themselves together, and kept within their prisons for safety ; — the grass grew in 25 the market-places ; — the cattle went moaning up and down the fields, wondering what had become of their keepers ; — the rooks and the ravens came into the towns, and built their nests in the mute belfries ; — silence was uni- versal, save when some infected wretch was seen clam- 30 ouring at a window. For a time all commerce was in coffins and shrouds; Ex. 51.] EXERCISES. PART II. ' 171 but even that ended. Shrift there was none ; churches and chapels were open, but neither priests nor peni- tent entered ; all went to the charnel-house. The sex- 35 ton and the physician were cast into the same deep and wide grave : — the testator and his heirs and executors were hurled from the same cart into the same hole to- gether. Fire became extinguished, as if its element too had expired; the seams of the sailorless ships yawn- 40 ed to the sun. Though doors were open, and coffers unwatched, there was no theft ; all offences ceased, and no calamity but # the universal wo of the pestilence was heard among men. The wells overflowed, and the con- duits ran to waste ; the dogs banded themselves together, 45 having lost their masters, and ran howling over all the land ; horses perished of famine in their stalls ; old friends but looked at one another when they met, keeping them- selves far aloof; creditors claimed no debts, and courtiers performed their promises ; little children went wander- 50 ing up and down, and numbers were seen dead in all corners. Nor was it only in England that the plague so raged : it travelled over a third part of the whole earth, like the shadow of an eclipse, as if some dreadful thing had been interposed between the world and the sun- 55 source of life. # * # At that epoch, for a short time, there was a silence, and every person in the street, for a moment stood still; London was as dumb as a churchyard. Again the sound of a bell was heard; for it was that sound, so 60 long unheard, which arrested the fugitive multitude, and caused their silence. At the third toll a universal shout arose, as when the herald proclaims the tidings of a great battle won, and then there was a second silence. The people fell on their knees, and with anthems of 65 thankfulness rejoiced in the dismal sound of that tolling death-bell; for it was a signal of the plague being so abated that men might again mourn for their friends, and hallow their remains with the solemnities of burial. 172 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 52. Exercise 52. BoMle of Borodino. — Anonymous. The night passed slowly over the wakeful heads of the impatient combatants. The morning- of the 7th of September at length broke, and thousands beheld the dawn for the last time. — The moment was arrived, when 5 the dreadful discharge of two thousand cannon was to break the silence of expectation, and arouse at once all the horrors of war. General as the attack seemed, the corps of Prince Bagration had to sustain the accumulat ing weight of nearly half the French army; and the de- 10 termination shown by its cavalry was so desperate, that they charged up to the mouth of the Russian guns. — Whole regiments of them, both horses and men, were swept down by the cannon shot ; and all along the front of Bagration's line, arose a breast-work of dead and dy- 15 ing. Napoleon ordered up fifty additional pieces of ar- tillery, and a fresh division of infantry, with several re- giments of dragoons. This new force rushed on, over the bodies of their fallen countrymen, and did not allow themselves to be checked until they reached the para- 20 pets of the Russian works. Their vigorous onset over- turned with fierce slaughter every thing that opposed them, and obliged Bagration to fall back nearer to the second line of the army. The rage of battle at this crisis is not to be described. The thunder of a thousand 25 pieces of artillery was answered by the discharge of an equal number on the part of the Russians.- A veil of smoke shut out the combatants from the sun, and left them no other light to pursue the work of death than the flashes of musketry, which blazed in every direction. 30 The sabres of 40,000 dragoons met each other, and clashed in the horrid gloom ; and the bristling points of countless bayonets, bursting through the rolling vapor, strewed the earth with heaps of slain. Such was the scene for an extent of many wersts, and 35 the dreadful contest continued without cessation until the darkness of the night. — This closed that memorable day, and with it terminated the lives of eighty thousand human beings. The horses which lay on the ground, from right to left, numbered full 25,000. Ex. 52, 53.] EXERCISES. PART II. 173 40 The next day, says Labaume, very early in the morn- ing, we returned to the field of battle. — In the space of a square le'ague, almost every spot was covered with the killed and wounded. — On many places, the bursting of the shells had promiscuously heaped together men and 45 horses. But the most horrid spectacle was the interior of the ravines; almost all the wounded, who were able to drag themselves along, had taken refuge there, to avoid the shot. These miserable wretches, heaped one upon an- 50 other, and almost suffocated with blood, uttering the most dreadful groans, and invoking death with piercing cries, eagerly besought us to put an end to their tor- ments. Exercise 53. Shipwreck. — Fredericksburg Arena. In the winter of 1825 — Lietenant G , of the United States Navy, with his beautiful wife (the most lovely fema^ my eyes ever beheld) and infant child, embarked in a packet at Norfolk, bound to South Caro- 5 lina. 'Tis true the weather was extremely cold, but as the wind was favourable, this mode of getting to their friends was not considered more hazardous, than the same trip by stages through the swamps and sands of the Carolina s. Besides, the vessel in which they sailed 10 was a well known and popular trader, and had never encountered an accident in making her numerous voy- ages. For the first day and night after their departure, the wind continued fair, and the weather clear ; but on the evening of the second day, they being then in sight 15 of the coast of North Carolina, a severe gale sprung up from the northward and westward, and towards mid- night, the Captain, judging himself much farther from the land than he really was, and dreading the gulf stream, hauled in for the coast ; but with the intention, it is 20 presumed, of laying to, when he supposed himself clear of the Gulf. Lieut. G did not approve of the Captain's determination to stand in for land, and the result proved that his objections were w r ell founded; for about four A. M. the vessel grounded. Vain would it be 15* 174 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 53. 25 to attempt a description of the horror which was depict- ed in every countenance when the awful shock, occa- sioned by the striking of the vessel's bottom, was first experienced. The terrors of such a situation can be known only to those who have themselves been ship- 30 wrecked. None others can have a tolerable idea of w T hat passed in the minds of the wretched crew, as they gazed with vacant horror on the threatening elementr, and felt that their frail bark must soon, perhaps the next thump, be dashed to pieces, and they left at the 35 mercy of the billows, with not even a flank between themselves and eternity ! First comes the thumping of the vessel — next the breaking of the raging surge over her sides — then the receding for an instant of the waves, causing the vessel to careen on her beam ends — 40 and lastly, the crashing of the spars and timbers by the returning rollers — the w T hole exhibiting a scene of con- fusion and horror, of which the most vivid language could afford but a cold and faint picture. But awful as this is, cheerless as are the shipwrecked sailor's pros- 45 pects, what are his feelings compared to the agony of a fond husband and father, who clasps in a last embrace his little world, his beloved wife and child ! Although conscious of the hopelessness of his situa- tion — ttiat to remain by the vessel was death ! and to 50 seek the shore, which, now that the day began to dawn, had become visible, was scarcely less perilous j still every feeling of his noble nature prompted him to action. My friend was a seaman, and a brave one : accustomed to danger, and quick in seizing upon every means of 55 rescuing the unfortunate. But now, who were the un- fortunate that called upon him for rescue? who were they whose screams were heard louder than the roaring elements, imploring that aid which no human power could afford them 1 His wife and child ! O ! heart- 60 rending agony! But why attempt to describe what few can imagine? The subject is too appalling to admit of amplification. In a word, then, the only boat which could be got at was manned by too gallant tars. Mrs. Q and child, and its nurse, were lifted into it — b5 it was the thought of desperation ! The freight was already too much. Mr. G saw this, and knew that the addition of himself would diminish the chances Ex. 53, 54.j EXERCISES.— PART II. 175 of the boat reaching the shore in safety ; and much a? he deplored the necessity — horrible as was the alterna-' 70 tive — he himself gave the order ; — " Push off, and make for the land, my brave lads !" — the last words which ever passed his lips ! The order was obeyed ; but ere the little boat had proceeded fifty yards, (about half the distance to the beach) it was struck on the quarter by a 75 roller, capsized, and boat, passengers, and all, enveloped for a time, in the angry surge ! The wretched husband ^saw but too distinctly what seemed to be the destruc- tion of that all he held dear ! But here, alas, and for- ever, were shut out from him all sublunary prospects ! 80 He fell upon the deck powerless — senseless — a corpse ! the victim of a sublime sensibility ! But what became of the unhappy wife and child? The answer shall be brief; Mrs. G was borne through the breakers to the shore, by one of the brave sailors ; the nurse was 85 thrown upon the beach, with the drowned infant grasped in her arms. The nurse survived. Mrs. G was taken to a hut senseless — continued delirious many days, but finally recovered her senses, and with them a con- sciousness of the awful catastrophe which in a moment 90 made her a childless widow. Exercise 54. The Bucket. — A Cold- Water So?ig. — Woodworth. 1 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 wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it, The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell ; The cot of r/y father, the dairy-house nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well ; The old oaken bucket — the iron-bound bucket — The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well. 2 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. 176 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 54, 55 How ardent I seized it with hands that were glowing 1 , 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. 3 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 lov'd 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 Exercise 55. Anecdote of Judge Marshall. — Winchester Republican It is not long since a gentleman was travelling in one of the counties of Virginia, and about the close of the day stopped at a public house, to obtain refreshment and spend the night. He had been there but a short time, be- 5 fore an old man alighted from his gig, with the apparent intention of becoming his fellow guest, at the same house. As the old man drove up, he observed that both the shafts of his gig were broken, and that they were held together by withes formed from the bark of a hickory sapling. — 10 Our traveller observed further, that he was plainly clad, that his kneebuckles were loosened and that something like negligence pervaded his dress. Conceiving Lim to be one of the honest yeomanry of our land, the courte- sies of strangers passed between them, and they entered 15 the tavern. It was about the same time that an addition of three or four young gentlemen was made to their num- ber — most, if not all of them of the legal profession. As soon as they became conveniently accommodated, the conversation was turned by one of the latter upon 20 an eloquent harangue which had that day been displayed at the bar. It was replied by the other, that he had witnessed the same day, a degree of eloquence, no doubt Ex. 55.] EXERCISES. PART II. 177 equal, but that it was from the pulpit. Something like a sarcastic rejoinder was made to the eloquence of the 25 pulpit; and a warm and able altercation ensued, in which the merits of the Christian religion became the subject of discussion.- — From six o'clock, until eleven, the young champions wielded the sword of argument, adducing with ingenuity and ability every thing that 30 could be said pro and con. During this protracted pe- riod, the old gentleman listened witii all the meekness and modesty of a child ; as if he was adding new infor- mation to the stores of his own mind; or perhaps he was observing with philosophic eye the faculties of the 35 youthful mind, and how new energies are evolved by repeated action ; or, perhaps, with patriotic emotion, he was reflecting upon the future destinies of his country, and on the rising generation upon whom these future destinies must devolve ; or, most probably, with a senti 40 ment of moral and religious feeling, he was collect^ ing an argument which, (characteristic of himself) no art would be " able to elude, and no force to resist." Our traveller remained a spectator, and took no part in what was said. 45 At last, one of the young men, remarking that it was impossible to combat with long and established preju- dices, wheeled around, and with some familiarity, ex- claimed, " Well, my old gentleman, what think you ot these things ?" If, said the traveller, a streak of vivid 50 lightning- had at that moment crossed the room, their amazement could not have been greater than it was with what followed. The most eloquent and unanswer- able appeal was made for nearly an hour, by the old gentleman, that lie ever heard or read. So perfect was 55 his recollection, that every argument urged against the Christian religion was met in the order in which it was advanced. Hume's sophistry on the subject of miracles, was, if possible, more perfectly answered, than it had already been done by Campbell. And in the whole 60 lecture there was so much simplicity and energy, pathos and sublimity, that not another word was uttered. An attempt to describe it, said the traveller, would be an attempt to paint the sunbeams. It was now a matter ol curiosity and inquiry, who the old gentleman was. The 65 traveller concluded that it was the preacher from whom 178 EXERCISES. rART II. [Ex. 56. the pulpit eloquence was heard — but no — it was the Chief Justice of the United States. Exercise 56. The First and Last Ticket. — Manuscript of a Criminal. Part I. My first ticket was a blank. I was persuaded by a friend to buy it, who tempted me by holding up to view the glittering prize, and exciting my hopes of obtaining . it. I was not disappointed at the result of my purchase, 5 although a curse involuntarily burst from my lips when I first learned it. I hardly thought of drawing a high prize ; yet the possibility of being so fortunate kept my mind in a constant, burning excitement. I was a young man then, and could ill afford to lose the cost of the 10 ticket. However, I comforted myself with the reflec- tion, that experience must be paid for. I also made a determination that I would not be so foolish again. I kept it unbroken for six months: yet all that time there was a whispering in my ear — " try again, you may be 15 more fortunate ." It was the whispering of my evil gen- ius — and I obeyed it. I bought part of a ticket and drew five hundred. I had previously to this, being in a good situation, and with every prospect of doing well in the world, engaged myself to Eliza Berton, a young lady 20 who had long possessed my affections. She was one no, I will not, I cannot speak of her as she was. Weil, shortly after my good fortune — I should say misfortune — I married her. I was considerably ela- ted with my luck, and treated my friends freely. I did 25 not however buy any tickets at that time, though strong- ly urged. One evening, after I had been married some months, I went out to visit a friend, intending to return in the course of an hour. On the way to my friend's house, I passed a lottery office. It was brilliantly light- 80 ed up, and in the windows were temptingly displayed schemes of chance, and invitations to purchase. I had not tried my luck since my marriage, and had given up buying tickets. As I passed by the window of the of- fice my eye caught the following, in illuminated letters S5 and figures — " $10,000 prize will be heard from this Ex. 56.] EXERCISES. PART II. 179 night Tickets $5." I hesitated a moment, then walk- ed on — * who knows but what I may get it V I said to myself. I stopped — turned about — still hesita- ting — ' Try again,' I heard, and retracing my steps, I 40 went into the office. A number of my acquaintances were sitting there smoking.— The vender gave me a cigar, and after a while asked me if I should not like to try my luck in the lottery, which he was expecting every moment to hear from; his clerk having gone out 45 to await the opening of the mail. So saying he hand- ed me out a package of quarters, which he prevailed on me to take, and pay twenty-five dollars ; the price he sold them at. The clerk soon after came in with a list of the drawing ; and t left the office that evening, one thou- 50 sand dollars better off than when I entered. But where for % For home % No — for the tavern ; all went for a treat. At midnight, I went home to my anxious, sleep- less . wife, in a fit of intoxication. This w as her first experience. *#*#### 55 A week went by, and Eliza began to smile again. The excitement I was in that night, she admitted as an excuse for my conduct. But she tenderly advised me, nay, on her knees in the stillness of our chamber, every night she implored God to have me in his keeping, — to 60 preserve me from temptation. I was ashamed of myself; and I solemnly swore to abstain altogether from tickets. My wife was herself again. Months passed away ; — a charge was entrusted to my keeping — a holy charge. I was presented with a son. He took his father's name. 65 TLank God! he will not bear his sorrows — his shame! 1 was happy as man need be for a year. Business pros- pered : — I enjoyed good health, and was blessed with a happy home where all was peace. Part II. I said I was happy — I was at times ; but there was a secret thirst within me for riches — and yet I was not ava- ricious — nor was I parsimonious. But the desire had been awakened — the hope been encouraged, that, by 5 venturing little, much might be had: and although by lottery gambling, yet a burning thought of gain — of gain by lotteries — agitated me day and night. In the day time, when about my business, the thought that by ven- a80 EXERCISES. FART II. [Ex. 56. turing a few dollars I might draw enough to make me 10 independent of labour — to allow me to live at ease, was uppermost in my mind ; and every night I received a large sum of prize money. — I strove to banish such desires from my mind ; but they haunted me like an evil spirit. 15 About eighteen months after taking my oath, a grand scheme was advertised to be drawn on a certain day in my own town. I felt a strong propensity to try my luck again. I was importuned by friends to buy tickets — the scheme was so good — the chance of success 20 was so great ; but I thought of the oath I had taken, and was firm in my denial. The day of drawing drew nigh. The vender who sold me the prize urged me to take a few tickets — I was also urged by others — even in the presence of my wife. But I resisted it. She, trusting 25 me, said not a word — she knew my oath was pledged — she knew that I remembered it, — and she had confi- dence in my keeping it sacred. She only gave a glance of pleasure, it may be triumph, as she heard me refuse my friend's invitation. — That night I dreamt that a par 30 ticular number would be a fortunate one — that I purchas- ed it, and it came up the highest prize. When I arose in the morning my firmness was a little shaken — it was the day of drawing. A friend came into my store in the forenoon and showed me a parcel of tickets'; amongst 35 them I saw the number of my dream ! He offered them to me — I forgot myself — I mocked my God — I broke my oath ; I did not stay in the house at noon any long- er than to hurry through with my dinner. My wife's presence was a burden to me ; her happy smile discom- 40 fitted me, and her cheerful tones went to my heart like a reproach. From that day her presence was a curse to me ; — not that I loved her less — not that she had chang- ed — but how could I stand before her, perjured as I was, and she the while not doubting my innocence — how 45 could I without feeling my unholiness? A thousand times that forenoon did I resolve to seek my friend and return him the ticket, and so often did I break them. Con- science smote heavily. But the prize, thought I, will check it. Fool, to think paltry gold would reconcile 50 an offended God — would buy off punishment ! The lottery was drawn that afternoon. That evening I sat Ex. 56.] EXERCISES. PART II. 181 alone with my wife in her room. She was talking of the folly of some men, in not being- contented with what they possessed, and for being ever on the search for more. 55 ' How many hearts have been agitated — wound up to the highest pitch, this afternoon, in hopes of drawing a prize/ said she. What ceuld I do % I was there, and had to listen to her, although each word seemed like a burning coal at my heart. She continued — 60 'And how many have spent that, which should have gone for bread and clothing for their families — and for what? -For a vain hope of obtaining more! for a piece of mere coloured paper ! And think you, my husband, there has been no vows violated, no oaths broken this 65 'afternoon % ' I made no answer, and she went on — ' If there are any such, and if they have been unfortunate, how bitter must be their disappointment, and how doubly keen their remorse ! Are you not, David, better pleased with yourself this evening for not buying tickets — allow- 70 ing you had not pledged your oath not to meddle with them — than you would have been, had you purchased them and made money by it ? ' Thus did th& woman talk to me, as though I were as pure and guiltless as her- self. She knew not that at the moment her words were 75 like daggers to my heart — that at every motion of her lips my soul writhed in agony; — she knew not that my pocket book was crammed with the accursed tickets — blank tickets! And when she poured out her soul in 4 prayer that night, she knew not that he, for whom she 80 prayed, dared not listen to her words, but stopped his ears. So it was. # # # # # 1 Do, my dear husband stay, at home, one evening this week ! You shall read to me, or I will read to you ! come, keep me company this evening.' Thus said my B5 wife one evening, as she took me affectionately by the arm, a tear at the same time filling her eye. Brute that I was ! I shook her off repulsively, scarcely deigning her a reply as I went out. I was an altered man — my innocence had departed from me — I had perjured my- self. My oath once broken I still continued to break it. 90 Not a lottery was drawn but that I had some chance in it. Ill luck attended me. Blanks — blanks were my portion. Still I kept on. Most of my hours were spent in lottery offices. I neglected my business — debts ac- 16 182 EXERCISES. PART II [Ex. 56 95 cumulated — wants came upon me; and I had nothing to satisfy them with but a hope — a hope, that at the next drawing I should he lucky. As cares increased I went to a tavern for relief. Remorse gnawed at my heart like a worm. It had drank up all my happiness. When 100 I first broke my oath I thought gold would still my con- science. Gold I had none, so I attempted to ease it by strong drink. Rum burnt up my tender feelings — my better nature; but it only added to the quenchless fire that was raging at my heart. It was not uncommon for 1 05 me at this stage, to get intoxicated every night. Oft have I staggered home to my patient, dying Eliza — for my conduct was making sad inroads on a constitution natu- rally delicate ; and without a shadow of cause fell to abusing her. What insult and misery has not that wo- 110 man endured! and all brought on by me, her husband, her protector ! About this time our child died. I dare not think of his death — how it was brought on. The poor child might have lived longer — perhaps he might — but he complained of being cold sometimes, of want- 115 ing clothes; and sometimes his cry for bread was vain. It was a great shock to my wife ; and her gradual fail- ing, day by day sobered me, and made me thoughtful. But what had I to do with reflection? The past was made up of sharp points, and when I turned to it I was 120 pierced ! and the future — what could I anticipate? what was there in store for me ? So I closed my ears — shut my heart to the starving condition of Eliza, and became a brute again. * * * ■» Part III. It was in the evening of a wet, cloudy day, that I sal- lied forth from my boarding hovel, to shame and sin, to learn the fate of my last ticket. To obtain it, I had to dispose of a Bible, which belonged to my late wife — my 5 dead Eliza — and which was the dying gift of her mo- ther. It was the last thing that I held that had belong- ed to her. One by one, had I disposed of what little effects she left, to gratify my passion for drinking and gambling. I had lost all feelings of shame. My wife 10 had been dead two years. The ticket I now had was to seal my fate. I had fasted more than one day to obtain means to purchase Ex. 56.] EXERCISES.— PART II. 183 it; I had even stinted my drink for means, so strong was my passion for gambling. Well, I went into the 15 office and called for the prize list. At a glance I saw my hopes were frustrated ; and crushing the list con- vulsively in my hand, I muttered a deep oath and stalked out of the office. That ticket indeed sealed my fate. ' The world owes me a living, and a living I will have ! ' 20 I said to myself as I turned away with a despairing heart and walked up the street. My mind was suddenly made up to a strong purpose. 4 There is money ! J I said between my teeth, as I sauntered along meditating some desperate deed. I knew not the time of night ; it was 25 late, however, for the stores were all closed, when a man brushed by me. As he passed I saw it was the vender of tickets — the man who had sold me the first and last ticket !— the man to whom I had paid dollar after dol- lar, until all was gone. He had a trunk in his hand, 30 and was probably going home. ' This man,' thought I, 'has received from me even to the last farthing; shall not I be justified in compelling him to return a part? at least ought he not to be made to give me some- thing to relieve my misery — to keep me from starving? ' 35 Such was my reasoning, as I buttoned my jacket and slowly followed him. Before reaching his house, he had to pass over a lonely space, where there were no houses, and at that time of the night but little passing. He had gone over half this space, when I stepped 40 quickly and warily behind him ; and grasp : ng with one hand his collar and with the other his trunk, in a gruff voice demanded his money. The words were barely uttered before I was grappled by the throat. He was a strong man, and he had a dangerous hold. I put forth 45 all my strength to shake off his grasp, striking him at the same time in the face and breast, but without avail — - he still kept his hold. Finding that something decisive must be done, for I could with difficulty breathe, I clasped him round the middle, and giving him a sud- 50 den jerk we both fell to the ground. I fell underneath and he had me in his power. I struggled in vain to free myself. He still held me by the throat, and he be- gan to cry for assistance. — What was to be done ? I had a jack knife in my pocket — there was no time for reflec- 55 lion— my left hand was free— it was the work of a mo- 184 EXERCISES. PART II. Ex. 56, 57 ment — the hot blood spirted from his heart full in my face. His hold relaxed, and giving a terrible groan he roiled on the ground in agony. I sprang upon my feet and snatched the trunk; as I moved away in the darkness, 60 the death rattle in the throat of my victim came fearfully upon my ears. What followed until T found myself chained in this dungeon I know not. I have a faint recollection of fly- ing from the spot where lay the dying man ; of being 65 aroused in the morning by the officers of justice; — of t court room, where were displayed the trunk found in my possession, and a knife taken from the breast of the corpse with my name on the handle. I have a more distinct recollection of an after trial and of a condemnation; and 70 to-morrow the jailer tells me I am to die — to be publicly executed. I acknowledge the justice of my punishment — I deserve death ; and may God show mercy to him who showed no mercy! Exercise 57. Death at the Toilet. — Diary of a Physician. " Why what in the world can Charlotte be doing all this while ? " inquired her mother. She listened — " I have not heard* her moving for the last three quarters of an hour ! I'll call the maid and ask." She rung the 5 bell, and the servant appeared. " Betty, Miss J is not gone yet, is she ? " " Go up to her room, Betty, and see if she wants any thing, and tell her it's half past nine o'clock," said Mrs. J . The servant accordingly went up stairs, and knocked at 10 the r^droom door, once, twice, thrice, but received no answer. There was a dead silence, except when the wind shook the window. Could Miss J have fallen asleep ? Oh ! impossible ! She knocked again, but un- successfully as before. She became a little flustered ; and t5 after a moment's pause opened the door and entered. There was Miss J sitting at the glass. " Why ma'am ! " commenced Betty in a petulant tone, walking up to her, "here have I been knocking for these five minutes, and" Betty staggered, horror struck to the iO bed, and uttering aloud shriek, alarmed Mrs. J , who instantly tottered up stairs, almost palsied with fright Miss J was dead ! Ex 57.] EXERCISES. PART II. 185 I was there within a few minutes, for my house was not more than two streets distant. It was a stormy 25 night in March : and the desolate aspect of things with- out — deserted streets — the dreary howling of the wind; and the' incessant pattering of the rain^— contributed to casta gloom over my mind, when connected with the intelligence of the awful event that had summoned me 30 out, which was deepened into horror by the spectacle I was doomed to witness. On reaching the house, I found Mrs. J in violent hysterics, surrounded by several of her neighbors who had been called to her as- sistance. I repaired to the scene of death, and beheld 35 what I never shall forget. The room was occupied by a white-curtained bed. There was but one window, and before it was a table, on w T hich stood a looking glass, hung with a little white drapery ; and various paraphernalia of the toilet lay scattered about — pins, 40 broaches, curling-papers, ribbands, gloves, &c. An arm chair was drawn to this table, and in it sat Miss J stone dead. Her head rested upon her right hand, her elbow supported by the table; while her left hung down by her side, grasping a pair of curling irons. — Each of 45 her wrists was encircled by a showy gilt bracelet. She was dressed in a white muslin frock, with a little bor- dering of blonde. Her face was turned towards the glass, which by the light of the expiring candle, reflect- ed with frightful fidelity the clammy, fixed features, 50 daubed with rouge and carmine — the fallen lower jaw — and the eyes directed full into the glass, with a cold stare, that was appalling. On examining the counte- nance more narrowly, I thought I detected the traces ot a smirk of conceit and self complacency, which not even 55 the palsying touch of death could wholly obliterate. The hair of the corpse, all smooth and glossy, was curl- ed with elaborate precision; and the skinny sallow neck was encircled with a string of glistening pearls. The ghastly visage of death thus leering through the 60 tinselry of fashion — the " vain show" of artificial joy — was a horrible mockery of the fooleries of life! Indeed it was a most humiliating and shocking spec- tacle. Poor creature ! struck dead in the very act of sacrificing at the shrine of female vanity ! 65 On examination of the body, we found that death had 16* 186 EXERCISES. FART II. [Ex. 57, 58. been occasioned by disease of the heart. Her life might have been protracted, possibly for years, had she but taken my advice, and that of her mother. I have seen many hundreds of corpses, as well in the calm compo- 70 sure of natural death, as mangled and distorted by vio lence ; but never have I seen so startling a satire upon human vanity, so repulsive, unsightly, and loathsome a spectacle, as a corpse dressed for a ball ! Exercises 58. Sabbath Schools. — Frelinghuysen. We have witnessed, with grateful interest, the progress of Sabbath school instruction. Every year has furnished some fresh proofs of its substantial benefits. Take a single illustration in your city ; a recent investigation 5 ascertained that of twelve thousand children who had shar- ed in the blessings of this institution, not one had ever been arraigned for crime. This is a volume of com- mendation ; but, sir, it is only the beginning of good. The next age will witness some of the fulness of its mer- 10 cies, when these children shall take our places, and as- sume upon them the duties of men and citizens. I hasten to the appropriate business of this evening. A noble impulse has been given to this sacred cause in a neighboring city ; it has reached the friends of truth 15 and awakened a, kindred spirit here. The moral condi- tion and prospects of the West — the influence which it will very soon exert in the public councils of our coun- try, and its own distinct claims, as an important part of ourselves, combined a weight of interest in its behalf, 20 that has attracted general concern and distinguished liberality. I advert to the share, that will soon be taken by the valley of the Mississippi, in our national concerns. Sir, the children will after a few more year,s, give the law to the mother. This infant West, is fast 25 attaining to a giant's dimensions ; and its power will be tremendous, unless controlled by principle. Washing- ton, who had studied the human character under many diversities, came to the full conviction, that no princi- ple could be safely trusted, which did not flow from a 30 sense of religious obligation; and an infinitely greater Ex, 58.] EXERCISES. PART II. 187 than Washington had ages before proclaimed the same truth. In this valley of the West, upwards of four mil- lions of freemen, have with astonishing rapidity peopled the fairest regions of our republic ; and the eventful 35 question to be resolved is, how we shall most happily fashion the elements of these rising communities : whether by our benignant regards, they shall aid to strengthen the cords of our union, whether they shall cherish the principles of private and public virtue, or whether 40 by our neglect, they shall be left to exhibit the melan- choly spectacle of universal degeneracy of manners, among a people, but yesterday born into political exist- ence. Sir, this is the true, honest question. We can- not and we ought not to evade it. It is put to us as 45 Christians and as American citizens. These sister states of the West possess capacities for good or e*dl, that can- not be trifled with or disregarded. Rightly influenced, immense blessings will reward our philanthropy — but should we suffer them to grown on, with no moral cul- 50 ture, floods of wickedness will by and by come over upon us, that will sweep away the last vestiges of hope and freedom. I lately heard from a distinguished citizen of that section of the Union, the evil, and the antidote in one short sentence. While deploring the frequent occurrence 55 of street murders — sometimes by men high in official stations, he remarked, that the terrors of law interposed no check, and that his hope rested in the reformation of public sentiment : there, said he, the mischief receives its countenance and there we must look for its 60 corrective. This was the language of truth and sober- ness. When the late movement in Philadelphia, was announced, it was hailed as the harbinger of incalculable blessings. A fountain was to be opened, whose health- ful streams would send forth richer benefits to the valleys 65 of the Mississippi, than all their majestic rivers. The Sunday schools will reform that perverted public opinion, that sanctions the deeds of the transgressor. They will purify the elements of society ; they will arrest the torrent of corruption ; erect the standards of sound ""O principles, and, by the blessing of heaven, save the country, and perpetuate her liberties. A cause, thus exalted in its aims, this evening addresses itself to the philanthropy of a generous people. It becomes 188 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 58, 59. not a stranger to press this suit. It befits the occasion, 75 however, to say of it, that a nobler charity could not well engage our sympathies. To raise an empire of immor- tal beings to the dignity of virtuous freemen ; to send forth moral influences among them, that shall establish the basis of political prosperity ; that shall raise a protec- 80 tion around the sacred privileges of the fireside, and se- cure the hearth and the altar from rude invasion. And more than this — to open to them the pathway to a bless- ed immortality, to fill up time with social comforts, to gild its close with consolation, and crown the whole with 85 imperishable happiness. Sir, what are earthly sceptres — what is human wealth and greatness, compared with such a vision % And in the just hope that it may short- ly be realized, w T ho can longer grasp his gold ? Where or how can wealth accomplish for us, more substantial 90 or sublime pleasures. Patriotism in its boldest concep- tions, cannot aspire to a purer bliss than this — To ele- vate an extensive region of enterprising men, to secure them from the wasteful influence of irreligion and crime ; and bring up millions of our fellow men, to the purity of 95 a virtuous community. Sir, failure in such an enter- prise, would be no common privilege. But we need no*; fail. The faithful consecration of our best efforts, is destined to demolish the throne of the prince of darkness : and honored will be the humblest man, permitted to raise 100 a finger in the work. Exercise 59. The folly and tvickedness of war. — Knox. Two poor mortals, elevated with the distinction of a golden bauble on their heads, called a crown, take offence at each other, without any reason, or with the very bad one of wishing for an opportunity of aggrandizing them- 5 selves by making reciprocal depredations. The crea- tures of the court, and point out to you the path to heaven. The Sabbat}; Ex. 83.] EXERCISES. PART II. 229 faithfully returns its mild and sweet seasons of grace. *hat earthly objects may not engross your thoughts, and >re- vent your attention to immortality. The sanctuary \ n- 25 folds its doors ; and invites you to enter in and be save. 1 . The Gospel still siiines to direct your feet, and to quick* en your pursuit of the inestimable prize. Saints wait, with fervent hope of renewing their joy over your repentance. Angels spread their wings to 30 conduct you home. The Father holds out the golden sceptre of forgiveness, that you may touch, and live. The Son died on the cross, ascended to heaven, and in tercedes before the throne of mercy, that you may be ac- cepted. The Spirit of grace and truth descends with his 35 benevolent influence, to allure and persuade you. While all things, and God at the head of all things, are thus kindly, and solemnly employed, to encourage you in the pursuit of this inestimable good, will you forget, that you have souls, which must be saved or lost? 40 Will you forget, that the only time of salvation is the present ? that beyond the grave there is no Gospel to be preached ? that, there no offers of life are to be made ! that no Redeemer will there expiate your sins; and no forgiving God receive your souls? 45 Of what immense moment, then, is the present life ! How invaluable every Sabbath; every mean of salva- tion ! Think how soon your last Sabbath will set in darkness ; and the last sound of mercy die upon your ears? How painful, how melancholy, an object, to a 50 compassionate eye, is a blind unfeeling, unrepenting im- mortal ! See the gates of life already unfolding to admit you. The firs'-born open their arms to welcome you to their divine assembly. The Saviour, who is gone before to 55 prepare a place for your reception, informs you, that all things are ready. With triumph, then, with ecstasy, hasten to enjoy the reward of his infinite labors in an universe of good, and in the glory, which he had with the Father before ever the world was. 20 230 EXERCISES. FART II. [Ex. 84 Exercise '84. Character of Richard Reynolds. — Tkorpe. Look at mighty Athens, and you will every where perceive monuments of taste, and genius, and eleganct t Look at imperial, Pagan Rome in all her glory ! You will behold all the grandeur of the human intellect un~ 5 folded in her temples, her palaces, and her amphitheatres. You will find no hospital or infirmary ; no asylum for the aged and the infirm, the fatherless and the widow ; the blind, the dumb, the deaf; the outcast and the des- titute. ' ! How vastly superior in this respect is Bristol to Ath- ens, is London to Rome. These, Christianity, are thy triumphs ! These are thy lovely offspring ! they all bear the lineaments of their common parent. Their family likeness proves the sameness of their origin. 15 Mercy conjoined with purity is the darling attribute of our holy religion. Its great founder was mercy embodied in a human form. Those virtues which shone in him shone in Reynolds also ; though with a diminished lustre, when 20 compared with his great original : — yet in a brighter lustre than in the rest of mankind. But whence, it may be demanded, came it to pass that this man rose so high, above the great mass of pro- fessed Christians ? The answer is obvious. The great 25 mass of professed Christians are Christians only by pro- fession. Reynolds was a Christian in reality. His Christianity was cordial — ardent — energetic. Not an empty name — a barren speculation ; but a vital principle. Vital Christianity is not so much a solitary beauty, as 30 it is an assemblage of all beauty. It combines the wisdom of the serpent, with the inno- cence of the dove; the gentleness of the lamb, with the courage of the lion. It adds a charm to the bloom of youth, and converts the hoary head into a crown of 35 glory. It gives dignity to the palace, and brings heaven into the cottage. The king upon the throne is not so venerable by the crown that encircles his brow, as by the religion that renders him the father of his people, and the obedient servant of the Sovereign of the world. ex. 85.] exercises. fart ii. 231 Exercise 85 Address of the Bible Society, — 1816. — Mason. People of the United States — Have you ever been invited to an enterprise of such grandeur and glory ? Do you not value the Holy Scrip- tures? Value them as containing your sweetest hope; your most thrilling joy ! Can you submit to the thought 5 that you should be torpid in your endeavours to disperse them, while the rest of Christendom is awake and alert ! Shall you hang back, in heartless indifference, when princes come down from their thrones, to bless the cottage of the poor with the gospel of peace ; and imperial so- 10 vereigns are gathering their fairest honours from spread- ing abroad the oracles of the Lord your God ? Is it possi- ble that you should not see, in this state of human things, a mighty motion of Divine Providence ? The most heavenly charity treads close upon the 15 march of conflict and blood! The world is at peace! Scarce has the soldier time to unbind his helmet, and to wipe away the sweat from his brow, ere the voice ot mercy succeeds to the clarion of battle, and calls the nations from enmity to love ! Crowned heads bow to the 20 head that is to wear " many crowns ," and, for the first time since the promulgation of Christianity, appear to act in unison for the recognition of its gracious princi- ples, as being fraught alike with happiness to man and honor to God. 25 What has created so strange, so beniflcent an alteration % This is no doubt the doing of the Lord, and it is marvel- lous in our eyes. But what instrument has he thought fit chiefly to use? That which contributes, in all latitudes and climes, to make Christians feel their unity, to rebuke 30 the spirit of strife, and to open upon them the day of bro- therly concord — the Bible ! the Bible ' — through Bible Societies ! Come then, fellow citizens, fellow Christians, let us join in the sacred covenant. Let no heart be cold; no 35 hand be idle: no purse reluctant! Come, while room is left for us in the ranks whose toil is. goodness, and whose recompense is victory. Come cheerfully, eagerly, gen- erally. 232 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 86. Exercise 86. The Roman Soldier ; — Last days of Herculaneum. Atherstone. Part I. There was a man, A Roman Soldier, for some daring deed That trespassed on the laws, in dungeon low Chained down. His was a noble spirit, rough, 5 But generous, and brave, and kind. He had a son, it was a rosy boy, A little faithful copy of his sire In face and gesture. From infancy the child Had been his father's solace and his care. 10 Every sport The father shared and heightened. But at length The rigorous law had grasped him, and condemned To fetters and to darkness. The captive's lot 15 He felt in all its bitterness : — the walls Of his deep dungeon answered many a sigh And heart-heaved groan. His tale was known, a ad touched His jailer with compassion ; — and the boy, 20 Thenceforth a frequent visitor, beguiled His father's lingering hours, and brought a balm With his loved presence that in every wound Dropt healing. But in this terrific hour He w r as a poisoned arrow in the breast 25 Where he had been a cure. — With earliest morn, Of that first day of darkness and amaze, He came. The iron door was closed, — for them Never to open more! The day, the night, 30 Dragged slowly by ; nor did they know the fate Impending o'er the city. Well they heard The pent-up thunders in the earth beneath, And felt its giddy rocking ; and the air Grew hot at length, and thick ; but in his straw 35 The boy was sleeping : and the father hoped Ex. 86.] EXERCISES. PART II. 233 The earthquake might pass by ; nor would he wake From his sound rest the unfearing child, nor tell The dangers of their state. ( ) On his low couch The fettered soldier sunk — and with deep awe *0 Listened the fearful sounds : — with upturned eye To the great gods he breathed a prayer; — then strove , To calm himself, and lose in sleep awhile His useless terrors. But he could not sleep :— His body burned with feverish heat; — his chains 15 Clanked loud although he moved not: deep inearth Groaned unimaginable thunders : — sounds, Fearful and ominuus, arose and died, Like the sad moanings of November's wind, In the blank midnight. ( •• ) Deepest horror chilled 50 His blood that burned before; cold clammy sweats Came o'er him : — (==) then anon a fiery thrill Shot through his veins. Now on his couch he shrunk, And shivered as in fear: — now upright leaped, As though he heard the battle trumpet sound, 55 And longed to cope with death. He slept at last, A troubled, dreamy sleep. Well, — had he slept Never to waken more! His hours are few, But terrible his agony. Part II. Soon the storm Burst fortn : the li^htnin^s glanced : — the air Shook with the thunders. They awoke ; they sprung Amazed upon their feet. The dungeon glowed 5 A moment as in sunshine, — and was dark: — Again a flood of white flame fills the cell ; Dying away upon the dazzled eye In darkening, quivering tints, as stunning sound Dies throbbing, ringing in the ear. Silence, 10 And blackest darkness. — With intensest awe The soldier's frame was filled ; and many a thought Of strange foreboding hurried through his mind, As underneath he felt the fevered earth Jarring and lifting — and the massive walls 15 Heard harshly grate and strain : — yet knew he not, While evils undefined and yet to come 2b* 234 EXERCISES. PART Kj» [Ex. 86 Glanced through his thoughts, what deep and cureless wound Fate had already given. — Where, man of wo ! 20 Where wretched father ! is thy boy ? Thou callest His name in vain : — he cannot answer thee. — Loudly the father called upon his child : — No voice replied. Trembling and anxiously He searched their couch of straw: — with headlong haste 25 Trod round his stinted limits, and, low bent, Groped darkling on the earth : — -no child was there. Again he called : — again, at farthest stretch Of his accursed fetters, — till the blood Seemed bursting from his ears, and from his eyes 30 Fire flashed, — he strained with arm extended far, And fingers widely spread, greedy to touch Though but his idol's garment. Useless toil ! Yet still renewed: — still round and round he goes, And strains, and snatches, — and with dreadful cries 35 Calls on his boy. Mad frenzy fires him now: He plants against the wall his feet ; — his chain Grasps; — tugs with giant strength to force away The deep-driven staple : — yells and shrieks with rage And, like a desert lion in the snare 40 Raging to break his toils, — to and fro bounds. But see! the ground is opening : — a blue light Mounts, gently waving, — noiseless : — thin and cold It seems, and like a rainbow tint, not flame; But by its lustre, on the earth outstretched. 45 Behold the lifeless child ! — his dress is singed, And o 7 er his face serene a darken' d line Points out the lightning's track. The father saw, — And all his fury fled : — a dead calm fell 50 That instant on him : — speechless, fixed he stood, And with a look that never wandered, gazed Intensely on the corse. Those laughing eyes Were not yet closed, — and round those ruby lips The wonted smile returned. 55 Silent and pale The father stands : — no tear is in his eye : — The thunders bellow — but he hears them not : — Ex. 86, 87.] EXERCISES. PART II. 235 The ground lifts like a sea: — he knows it not : — The strong walls grind and gape : — the vaulted roof 60 Takes shapes like bubble tossing in the wind : — See ! he looks up and smiles ; — for death to him Is happiness. Yet could one last embrace Be given, 'twere still a sweeter thing to die. It will be given. Look ! how the rolling ground, 65 At every swell, nearer and still more near Moves towards the father's outstretched arm his boy ;— Once he has touched his garment ; — how his eye Lightens with love — and hope — and anxious fears ! Ha ! see ! he has him now ! — he clasps him round — 70 Kisses his face ; — puts back the curling locks, That shaded his fine brow: — looks in his eyes — Grasps in his own those little dimpled hands — Then folds him to his breast, as he was wont To lie when sleeping — and resigned awaits 75 Undreaded death. And death came soon, and swift, ,Vnd pangless. The huge pile sunk down at once Into the opening earth. ( •• ) Walls — arches — roof— 80 And deep foundation stones — all •• mingling •• fell ! Exercise 87. The Orphan Boy. — Mrs. Opie. 1 Stay, lady — stay, for mercy's sake, And hear a helpless orphan's tale: Ah, sure my looks must pity wake — 'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale! Yet I was once a mother's pride, And my brave father's hope and joy: But in the Nile's proud fight he died — And I am now an orphan boy ! 2 Poor, foolish child! how pleased was I When news of Nelson's victory came, Along the crowded streets to fly, To see the lighted windows flame ! To force me home my mother sought — 2?6 exercises. — part ii. [Ex. 87, 88 She could not bear to see my joy ! For with my father's life 'twas bought — And made me a poor orphan boy ! 3 The people's shouts were long and loud ! My mother, shuddering, closed her ears ; " Rejoice ! rejoice !" still cried the crowd — My mother answered with her tears ! " Oh ! why do tears steal down your cheeks," Cried I, " while others shout for joy !" She kissed me, and in accents weak, She called me her 'poor orphan boy J 4 " What is an orphan boy?" I said ; When suddenly she gasped for breath, And her eyes closed ; I shrieked for aid : — But, ah ! her eyes were closed in death ! My hardships since I will not tell : But now no more a parent's joy; Ah ! lady, I have learned too well What 'tis to be an orphan boy. Exercise 88. Christian Consolation. — A n o n y m o its. [The annexed feeling and beautiful lines are said to have beeL vrit ten by a young English lady, who had experienced much affliction.] 1 Jesus — I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow thee, Naked, poor, despised, forsaken — Thou, from hence, my all shalt be ! Perished every fond ambition — All I've sought, or hoped, or known, Yet how rich is my condition — God and heaven are ail my own ! 2 Go, then, earthly fame and treasure — Come disaster, scorn, and pain; In thy service, pain is pleasure, With thy favor, loss is gain ; I have called thee Abba Father — I have set my heart on thee j Ex. 88, 89.] EXERCISES. PART II. 237 Storms may howl, and clouds may gather — All must work for good to me ! 3 Soul ! then know thy full salvation — Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care; Joy to find in every station Something still to do or bear ! Think, what spirit dwells within thee — Think what heavenly bliss is thine ; Think that Jesus died to save thee — Child of Heaven — canst thou repine 1 4 Haste thee on, from grace to glory, Armed by faith, and wing'd by prayer — Heaven's eternal day 's before thee — God's own hand shall guide thee there. Soon shall close thy earthly mission ! Soon shall pass thy pilgrim-days, Hope shall change to glad fruition — Faith to sight, and prayer to praise. Exercise 89. Cruelty to Animals. — Cowper. I would not enter on my list of friends, (Though grac'd with polish' d manners and fine senses Yet wanting sensibility,) the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. 5 An inadvertent step may crush the snail, That craw T ls at evening in the public path; But he that has humanity, forewarn'd, Will tread aside, and let the reptile live. The creeping vermin, loathsome to the sight, i0 And charg'd perhaps with venom, that intrudes A visitor unwelcome into scenes Sacred to neatness and repose, th' alcove, The chamber, or refectory, may die. A necessary act incurs no blame. 15 Not so, when held w 7 ithin their proper bounds, A.id guiltless of offence they range the air, Or take their pastime in the spacious field. 238 EXERCISES. PART n. [Ex. 89, 90. There they are privileg'd. And he that hurts Or harms them there, is guilty of a wrong; 20 Disturbs the economy of nature's realm, Who when she form'd, designed them an abode. The sum is this: if man's convenience, health, Or safety, interfere, his rights and claims Are paramount, and must extinguish theirs. 25 Else they are all — the meanest things that are, As free to live and to enjoy that life, As God was free to form them at the first, Who in his sovereign wisdom, made them all. Ye, therefore, who love mercy, teach your sons 30 To love it too. The spring time of our years Is soon dishonor 7 d and defU'd, in most, By budding ills, that ask a prudent hand To check them. But, alas ! none sooner shoots, If unrestrain'd, into luxuriant growth, 35 Than cruelty, most devilish of them all. Mercy to him that shows it, is the rule And righteous limitation of its act, By which Heav'n moves in pard'ning guilty man And he that shows none, being ripe in years, 40 And conscious of the outrage he commits, Shall seek it, and not find it in his turn. Exercise 90. Christianity. — Mason. The cardinal fact of Christianity, without which all her other facts lose their importance, is the resurrection, from the dead, of a crucified Saviour, as the prelude, the pattern, and the pledge of the resurrection of his 5 followers to eternal life. Against this great fact the "children of disobedience?" have levelled their batteries. One assails its proof; another its reasonableness; all, its truth. When Paul asserted it before an audience of Athenian philosophers, " some mocked' 7 — a short method 10 of refuting the Gospel; and likely, from its convenience, to continue in favor and in fashion. Yet with such doctrines and facts did the religion of Jesus make her way through the world. Against the Ex. 90.] EXERCISES. PART II. 239 superstition of the multitude — against the interest, in- 15 fluence, and craft of their priesthood — against the ridi- cule of wits, the reasoning of sages, the policy of cab- inets, and the prowess of armies — against the axe, the cross, and the stake, she extended her conquests from Jordan to the Thames. She gathered her laurels alike 20 upon the snows of Scythia, the green fields of Europe, and the sands of Africa. The altars of impiety crum- bled befoie her march — the glimmer of the schools dis- appeared in her light — Power felt his arm wither at her glance ; and, in a short time, she who went, forlorn and 25 insulted, from the hill of Calvary to the tomb of Joseph, ascended the Imperial throne, and waved her banner over the palace of the Caesars. Her victories were not less benign than decisive. They were victories over all that pollutes, degrades, and ruins -man ; in behalf of all 30 that purifies, exalts, and saves him. They subdued his understanding to truth, his habits to rectitude, his heart to happiness. The disregard which some of old affected to whatever goes by the name of evil ; the insensibility of others 35 who yield up their souls to the power of fatalism ; and the artificial gaiety which has, occasionally, played the comedian about the dying bed of " philosophy, falsely so called," are outrages upon decency and nature. Death destroys both action and enjoyment — mocks at 40 wisdom, strength, and beauty — disarranges our plans — robs us of our treasures — desolates our bosoms — breaks our heart-strings — blasts our hope. Death extinguishes the glow of kindness — abolishes the most tender rela- tions of man — severs him from all that he knows and loves 45 — subjects him to an ordeal which thousands of millions have passed, but none can explain ; and which will be as new to the last who gives up the ghost, as it was to mur- dered Abel — flings him, in fine, without any avail from the experience of others, into a state of untried being. No 50 wonder that nature trembles before it. Reason justifies the fear. Religion never makes light of it: and he who does, instead of ranking with heroes, can hardly deserve to rank with a brute. What have unbelievers to gild their evening hour, to 55 bind up their aching head, to soothe their laboring heart ? What living hope descends from heaven to 240 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 90, 91 smile on the sinking features, whisper peace to the re- tiring spirit, and announce to the sad surrounding rela- tives that all is well ? There is none ! Astonishment, 60 dismay, melancholy boding, are the "portion of their cup." Sit down, ye unhappy, in the desolation of grief. Consolation heard the voice of your weeping: she has- tened to your door, but started back affrighted ; her commission extends not to your house of mourning; ye 65 have no hope ! Exercise 91. Character of Mrs. Graham. — Mason. Recall the example of Mrs. Graham. Here was a woman — a widow — a stranger in a strange land — with- out fortune — with no friends but such as her letters of introduction and her worth should acquire — and with a 5 family of daughters dependent upon her for their sub- sistence. Surely if any one has a clear title of immuni- ty from the obligation to carry her cares beyond the domestic circle, it is this widow; it is this stranger. Yet within a few years this stranger, this widow, with 10 no means but her excellent sense, her benevolent heart, and her persevering will to do good, awakens the chari- ties of a populous city, and gives to them an impulse, a direction, and an efficacy, unknown before ! What might not be done by men ; by men of talent, of stand- 15 ing, of wealth, of leisure? How speedily, under their well-directed beneficence, might a whole country change its physical, intellectual, and moral aspect ; and assume, comparatively speaking, the face of another Eden — a second garden of God ? Why then do they not diffuse, 20 thus extensively, the seeds of knowledge, of virtue, and of bliss % I ask not for their pretences ; they are as old as the lust of lucre ; and are refuted by the example which we have been contemplating — I ask for the true reason, for the inspiring principle of their conduct. It is this — 25 let them look to it when God shall call them to account for the abuse of their time, their talents, their station, their "unrighteous mammon." — It is this :'They believe not "the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive." They labor under no want but 30 one — they want the heart ! Ex 9i, 92.] EXERCISES. TART II. 241 That venerable mother in Israel, who has exchanged ?he service of God on earth for his services in heaven, has left a legacy to her sisters — she has left the example of her faith and patience; she has left her prayers; she 35 has left the monument of her Christian deeds : and by these she " being dead yet speaketh." Matrons ! has she left her mantle also ? Are there none among you to hear her voice from the tomb, "Go and do thou likewise?" None whom affluence permits, endowments qualify, an •.. 40 piety prompts, to aim at her distinction by treading in her steps ? Maidens ' Are there none among you, who would wish to array yourselves hereafter in the honours of this "virtuous woman?" Your hearts have dismissed their wonted warmth and generosity, if they do not throb as 45 the reverend vision rises before you — then prepare your- selves now, by seeking and serving the God of her youth. Yea, let me press upon all who hear me this evening, the transcendent excellence of Christian character, and 50 the victorious power of Christian hope. The former bears the image of God; the latter is as imperishable as his throne. We fasten our eyes with more real respect, and more heart-felt approbation upon the moral majesty displayed in "walking as Christ also w r alked," than up- 55 on all the pomps of the monarch, or decorations of the military hero. More touching to the sense, and more grateful to high heaven, is the soft melancholy with - which we look after our departed friend, and the tear which embalms her memory, than the thundering plau- *90 dits which rend the air with the name of a conqueror. She has obtained a triumph over that Foe who shall break the arm of valour, and strike off the crown of kin^s. Exercise 92. Living to God. — Griffin. The heart-breaking necessities of a world ought to rouse us from our selfish stupor. To say nothing of the multitudes who are swarming the w*.y to death in the most favoured regions; to say nothing of whole na- 5 tjons in the Romish and Greek Churches, who, though 21 242 EXERCISES. rART II. [Ex. 92. they bear the Christian name, are apparently living with- out God in the world ; to say nothing of hundreds of thousands of nominal Christians, scattered through Asia and Africa, who scarcely retain any thing of Christianity 10 but the name ; to say nothing of three millions of Jews , it is a distressing truth that more than two thirds of the population of the globe are still buried under Pagan or Mahometan darkness, and are as abominably wicked as sin can make them. 15 While I am speaking they are bursting forth to meet their doom. It certainly has become the duty of every person in a Gospel land to rack his invention, to devise means, and to strain the last nerve of his strength, to rescue those perishing nations, as he would to deliver 20 his family from a burning house. O, if we loved those heathen as we do our children ! but we ought to love them as we love ourselves. Heretofore we knew not how it was possible to reach them ; but now a way is opened by which we may operate upon them, with as 25 much ease as though they lived at our door. If we drop a dollar into the American Bible Society, it will turn to a Bible, and find its way to India, and will travel while we sleep. If we deposit another, it will become a Bible and make its way to South America, without post- 30 age or risk. Thus God has opened a door by which we may pour upon the heathen the blessings of the Gospel as fast as we please, and need not be bounded by any other limit than our ability and inclination. One Bible will shed upon a benighted family a light which will ra- 35 diate through a neighbourhood, and descend from gene- ration to generation. And who is too poor to give ? Bible? It has been computed by those who have pas- sed through our country, to search out its wants, that no less than five hundred thousand Bibles are wanted in 40 the United States, to furnish each family with one, that each man may have a Bible to lie upon his dying pil- low. Do we hear this, and shall we sleep? There ought to be two Bible Societies, one of males and the other of females, formed in every town, and village, and j 45 hamlet in America. And into one of these every per- son but actual paupers ought to come. Every hand in Christendom, but those which are stretched out for alms, ought to give one Bible a yea^ till the wants of Ex. 92, 93.] EXERCISES. PART II. 243 world are supplied. It is a tax which the God of hea- 50 ven has laid upon the whole population of Christian countries Let the labouring- poor work an hour longer each day, and retrench some unnecessary expenses, and they need not be excluded from this glorious work of regenerating a world. But the coffers of the rich — 55 What has sealed the coffers of the rich? that they should roll in luxury and pave the way to their theatres with gold, when six or seven hundred millions of sinners are without a Bible ! There is superfluous wealth enough in a few of our cities and larger towns to convey the GO Gospel in a short time to every family on earth. God Almighty open their hearts that they may pour out their treasures by hundreds and by thousands, till the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. 65 My brethren, let us no longer live to ourselves. Let us arise and put our hands to the great work in which the nations are now moving. Wondrous thmgs are tak- ing place in the four quarters of the globe. The world is waking up after a long sleep, and is teeming with pro- 70 jccts and efforts to extend the empire of truth and happi- ness. This is the day of which the prophets sung. Let us not sleep while all others are rousing themselves to action. Let every soul come up to the help of the Lord. Let not one be left behind. He that has absolutely no- lo thing to give, let him pray. Let no one be idle. This is a great day and the Lord requires every nand in the work. Exercise 93. Plea for Africa. — Griffin. It can no longer be made a question whether the ele- vation of the African race is a pan of the new order ol things. The providence of God has declared it. The Almighty Deliverer is already on his march to relieve 5 the woes of Africa. Her resurrection is already stamped with the broad seal of heaven. Let all the nations behold the sign, and bow to the mandate of God. Ethiopia, shall stretch out her hands to God. Let 244 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 93 cruel and unbelieving minds raise up as many jeers and 10 objections as they may, the thing icitl proceed. " for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it." We have now arrived at the conclusion that a brighter day is arising on Africa. Already 1 seem to see her chains dissolved, — her desert plains turned into a fruit- 15 ful field, — her Congo and her Senegal the seats of science and religion, reflecting the glory of the rising sun from the spires of their churches and universities, — her Gam- bia and Niger whitened with her floating commerce, her crowded cities sending forth the hum of business, — 20 her poets and orators standing on the same shelf with Milton and Burke, — and all her sons employed in the songs of salvation. And when that day shall come, I am sure posterity will see the names of Clarkson, Sharp, Wilberforce, Thornton, and Gregoire, recorded on the 25 cities and monuments of a grateful continent. We come to you this evening with our hands stretch- ed out in supplication for Africa, which, though dark her skin, is one of our own mother's children. We be- seech you by that mercy w r hich you hope to find, that 30 you do not reject our suit. We beseech you by the tears which were once shed for you, that you aid us in wiping the tears of an oppressed race. I have no inten- tion to practise on your feelings. I know too well the piety and liberality of this metropolis. I only wish to 35 spread the object before you in its own native for*.iS, — to lay open every wounded and aching part. I am sorry that I have not been able to do this w r ith more success. Your goodness will supply the rest. You mill furnish the Synod with means to prosecute their benevolent 40 designs. Beloved brethren, to live in such a world and age as this, brings with it immense obligations; — the world of all others which the Son of God redeemed with blood ; — the age selected from all ages to be the season of his 45 highest triumph and reward ; — the spot and time, among all. worlds and periods, most interesting to the eyes of heaven. To exist in such a day, is a privilege which kings and prophets desired, but were not permitted to enjoy. If ever the servants of God were " a flame of 50 fire," this is the time to exhibit themselves such. You stand, my beloved brethren, under an opening heaven Ex 93, 94.] EXERCISES. PART 11. 245 You stand by the tomb of a world rising from death. Be not stupid in such a day. Be not half awake. Let your soul stand erect, looking out for the approaching 55 God. Let every nerve be strung to action. Great is the human effort which the day calls for; great will be the triumph which faith and patience will achieve. It is but " a little while, and he that shall come, w r ill come and will not tarry." For my part I would rather be one to 60 follow the wheels of his victorious chariot, than to enjoy the triumphs of a Csesar. Let a prostrate world prepare to sing, " Hosanna to the Son of David ! blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord : hosanna in the highest !" Exercise 94. Abolition of the Slave Trade. — Christian Observer. 1 Woe to the land, whose wealth proclaims Another land's undoing: Whose trophied column rises high, On robbery and ruin. Brittania saw with deep disdain, The foul reproach, the coward stain, The characters of blood ; She saw, and swept her shame away, While shouting round, in thick array, Her patriot champions stood. 2 Proud was the morn whose early beams Saw Pitt and Fox uniting, And side by side, in holy band, Their country's battle fighting. Oh! if their spirits hover nigh, How shall they hail with rapture high, This day's revolving sun ; And hear our songs of triumph tell, The prize, for which they fought so well, The virtuous prize, is won! 3 Let France of prostrate Europe tell, Exulting in her story ; The usurper shall unenvied stretch 246 exercises. — part ii. [Ex. 94, 95 The reign of guilty glory. His be the chaplet dropping gore, And his the red plume, waving o'er A bleeding people's wo. Scor.rge of the North, the South, the West ! The world, that bows at thy behest, The World is still thy foe. 4 But thee, fair Daughter of the Seas, Are brighter days attending, And olive wreaths, with myrtle twined, Around thy sceptre blending. Though doomed perchance awhile to bear Thy blazing regis high in air ; Beneath that ample shade, Shall Europe's exiled virtue throng, And Africa, redeemed from wrong, Adore thy guardian aid. 5 So shalt thou rest, through rolling years, Secure in heaven's alliance, And to a thousand circling foes Breathe oat a bold defiance. Her eagle wing shall Victory wave Around t#l arm that strikes to save; And Earth applauding, see The friend of every friendless name, Foremost in bliss, and strength, and fame, The Friend of Freedom, free. Exercise 95. Eliza. — Darwin. Now stood Eliza, on the wood-crown'd height, O'er Minden's plain, spectatress of the fight, Sought with bold eye, amid the bloody strife, Her dearer self, the partner of her life ; .From hill to hill the rushing host pursued, And viewed his banner, or, believed she viewed. Pleased with the distant roar, with quicker tread Fast by his hand, one lisping boy she led; And one fair girl, amid ihe loud alarm Slept on her kerchief, cradled by her arm ; Ex. 95] EXERCISES. PART II. 247 While round her brows bright beams of honour dart, And love's warm eddies circle round her heart. — Near, and more near, the intrepid beauty pressed, Saw, through the driving smoke, his dancing crest* 15 Heard the exulting shout, " They run ! they run P " Great God !" she cried, " he's safe ! the battle's won * ,: — A ball now hisses through the airy tides, (Some fury speeds it, and some demon guides !) Parts the fine locks, her graceful head that deck, 20 Wounds her fair ear, and sinks into her neck ; The red stream issuing from her azure veins Dyes her white veil, her ivory bosom stains. — — u Ah me !" she cried, (and, sinking on the ground, Kissed her dear babes, regardless of the wound;) 25 " Oh, cease not yet to beat, thou vital urn ! " Wait, gushing life, oh wait, my love's return ! " Hoarse barks the wolf, the vulture screams from far I " The angel, pity, shuns the walks of war! — " Oh spare, ye war hounds, spare their tender age! — 30 " On me, on me," she cried, "exhaust your rage!" Then with weak arms, her weeping babes caressed, And, sighing, hid them in her blood-stained Yest From tent to tent the impatient warrior flies, (Fear in his heart, and frenzy in his eyes:) 35 Eliza's name along the camp he calls, Eliza ! echoes through the canvass walls ; Quick through the murmuring gloom, his footsteps tread O'er groaning heaps, the dying and the dead, Vault o'er the plain, and, in the tangled wood, — 40 Lo ! dead Eliza, weltering in her blood ! — Soon hears his listening son the welcome sounds, With open arms and sparkling eyes he bounds, — " Speak low," he cries, and gives his little hand, •'Eliza sleeps, upon the dew-cold sand." 45 Poor weeping babe, with bloody fingers pressed And tried, with pouting lips, her milkless breast. " Alas ! we both with cold and hunger quake — " Why do you weep? — Mamma will soon awake." — " She '11 wake no more !" the hopeless mourner cried, 50 Upturned his eyes, and clasped his hands, and sighed; Stretched on the ground awhile entranced he lay, And pressed warm kisses on the lifeless clay ; And then upsprung, with wild convulsive start, 248 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 95, 96. And, all the father kindled in his heart: 55 " O, Heavens i" he cried, " my first rash vow forgive ! " These bind to earth, for these I pray to live!" Round hio chill babes he wrapped his crimson vest And clasped them, sobbing, to his aching breast. Exercise 96. Character of Mr. Brougham. — Anonymous. Brougham, is a thunderbolt. He may come in the dark, he may come at random, his path may be in the viewless and graspless air ; but still, give him something solid, let him come in contact with the earth, and, be it 5 beautiful or barren, it feels the power of his terrible visi- tation. You see not, or rather you heed not, the agent which works: but, just as when the arch-giant of phy- sical destroyers rends his way, you see the kingdoms of nature yielding at his approach, and the mightiest of their 10 productions brushed aside as though they were dust, or tora as though they were gossamer While he raises his voice in the house — while he builds fin*.!/ and broadly the bf ses of nis own proposi- tions, and snatches from every science a beam to enlarge 15 and strengthen his work ; and while hejj^dignantly beats down and tramples upon all that has been reared by his antagonist, you feel as if the wind of annihilation Were in his hand, and the power of destruction in his posses- sion. 20 There cannot be a greater treat than to hear Brough- am upon one of those questions which give scope for the mighty swell of his mind, and which permit him to launch the bolts of that tremendous sarcasm, for which he has not now, and perhaps never had, an equal in the 25 house. When his display is a reply, you see his long and lathy figure drawn aside from others, and coiled up within itself like a snake, and his eyes glancing from under the slouched hat, as fiery and as fatal as those of the basilisk ; you mark the twin demons of irony and 30 contempt, playing about the tense and compressed line of his mouth. Up rises the orator, slowly and clumsily. His body, swung into an attitude which is none of the most grace- Ex. ( J6 J EXERCISES. PART II. 249 ful. His long* and sallow visage seems lengthened and 35 deepened in its hue. His eyes, his nose, and mouth seem huddled together, as if, while he presses every il- lustration into his speech, he were at the same time condensing all his senses into one. There is a lower- ing sublimity in his brows, which one seldom sees equal- 40 led ; and the obliquity of the light shows the organiza- tion of the upper and lateral parts of his forehead, proud and palpable as the hills of his native north. His left hand is extended with the palm, prepared as an anvil, upon which he is ever and anon to hammer, with the 45 fort finger of - his right, as the preparation to that full swing which is to give life to every muscle, and motion to every limb. He speaks ! In the most powerful and sustained, and at the same time, the most close, clear and logical manner, does he demolish the castle which 50 his opponent had built for himself. You have the sounds, you see the flash, you look for the castle, and it is not. Stone after stone, turret after turret, battlement after battlement, and wing after wing, are melted away, and nothing left, save the sure foundation, upon which the 55 orator himself may build. There are no political bowels in him. He gives no quarter, and no sooner has he razed the fort, than he turns him to torture the garrison. It is now that his mock solemnity is something more terrible than the satire of Canning, the glow of Burdett, 60 or the glory of Mackintosh. His features, (which are always grave) assume the very depth of solemnity; and his voice (which is always solemn) falls into that under sopraw ^(that visionary tone between speech and whis- per) which men employ when they speak of their own C5 graves, and coffins. You would imagine it not audible, and yet its lowest syllable runs through the house like wild -fire. You would think it meant only for the ear of him who is the subject of it, yet it comes immediately, and powerfully, and without the possibility of being for- 70 gotten, to every one within the walls. You would think it the fond admonition of a sainted father to the errors of a beloved son ; and yet, it has in reality more of that feeling which the Devil is said to exercise, when he acts as the accuser of the brethren. — You may push aside 75 the bright thing which raises a laugh ; you may find a cover from the wit which ambles to you on antithesis 250 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 96, 97. or quotation ; but against the home reproof of Brougham there is no defence ; its course is so firm thL. you cannot dash it aside. Exercise 97. Character of Mr. Wilberforce. — Anonymous. The speeches of Mr. Wilberforce, are among the very few good things now remaining in the British Parliament : his diction is elegant, rich, and spirited; his tones are so distinct and so melodious, that the most hostile ear 5 hangs on them delighted. Then his address is so in- sinuating, that if he talked nonsense, you would feel yourself obliged tc hear him. I recollect when the House had been tired night after night, with discussing the endless questions relating to Indian Policy, when the 10 commerce and finances and resources of our oriental empire had exhausted the lungs of all the speakers, and the patience of all the auditors — at that period, Mr. Wilberforce, with a just confidence in his powers, ven- tured to broach the hackneyed subject of Hindoo con- 15 version. He spoke three hours, but nobody seemed fatigued-? all, indeed, were pleased, some with the ingeni- ous artifices of his manner, but most with the glowing language of his heart. Much as I differed from him in opinion, it was impossible not to be delighted with his 20 eloquence: and though I wish most heartily that the Hindoos might be left to their own trinity, yet 1 felt dis- posed to agree with him, that some good must arise to the human mind, by being engaged in a controversy which will exercise most of its faculties. Mr. Wilber- 25 force is now verging towards age,* and speaks but sel- dom ; he, however, never speaks .without exciting a wish that he would say more ; he maintains, like Mr. Grat- tan, great respectability of character, by disdaining to mix in the daily paltry squabbles of party: he is no 30 hunter after place. ##**#* I confess I always look with equal respect and pleasure on this eloquent veteran, lingering among his bustling, * Written in 1814 or 1815. Ex. 97, 98/ EXERCISES. PART II. 251 but far inferior posterity; and well has he a right to linger on the spot where he achieved one of the greatest 35 laurels that ever brightened in the wreath of fame: a laurel better than that of the hero, as it is not stained with blood or tears : better even than that of the states- man who improves the civilization of his country, inas- much as to create, is better than to improve. And the 40 man whose labours abolished the Slave Trade, at one blow* struck away the barbarism of a hundred nations, and elevated myriads of human beings, degraded to the brute, into all the dignified capacities of civilized man. To have done this is the most noble, as it is the most 45 useful work, which any individual could accomplish. Exercise 98. Eulogium on Mr. Fox. — Sheridan. Upon the one great subject, which, at this moment, I am confident has possession of the whole feelings of every man, whom I address — the loss, the irreparable loss, of the great, the illustrious character, whom we all deplore 5 — I shall, I can say but little. # # # He died in the spirit of peace ; tranquil in his own expir- ing heart, and cherishing to the last, with a parental soli- citude, the consoling hope that he should be able to give established tranquillity to harassed, contending nations. 10 Let us trust, that the stroke of death which hasborne him from us, may not have left the peace of the world, and the civilized charities of man, as orphans upon the earth. With such a man, to have battled in the cause of genuine liberty — with such a man, to have struggled against 15 the inroads of oppression and corruption — with such an example before me, to have to boast that I never in my life gave one vote in parliament that was not on the side of freedom, is the congratulation that attends the retrospect of my public life. His friendship was the 20 pride and honour of my days. I never, for one moment, regretted to share w 7 ith him the difficulties, the calum- nies, and sometimes even the dangers, that attended his honourable life. And now, reviewing my past political conduct, were the option possible that I should retread 25 the path, I solemnly and deliberately declare, that I •252 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 98, 99. would pursue the same course — bear up under the same pressure — abide by the same principles — and remain by his side, an exile from power, distinction, and emolument ! If I have missed the opportunity, of obtaining- all the 30 support, I might, perhaps, have had, on the present oc- , casion, from a very scrupulous delicacy, which I think became, and was incumbent upon me — I cannot repent it. In so doing, I acted on the feelings upon which 1 ^am sensible all those would have acted who loved Mr. Fox 35 as I did. I felt within myself, that while the slightest aspirations might still quiver on those lips, that were the copious channels of eloquence, wisdom, and benevo- lence — that while one drop^ of life's blood might still warm that heart, which throbbed only for the good of 40 mankind — I should not, I could not have acted other- wise. Gentlemen ; the hour is not far distant, when an awful knell shall tell you, that the unburied remains of your revered patriot are passing through your streets, to that 45 sepulchral home where your kings — your heroes — your sages — and your poets, will be honoured by an association with his mortal remains. At that hour when the sad so- lemnity shall take place, in a private way, as more suited to the simple dignity of his character, than the splendid 50 gaudiness of public pageantry; when you, all of you, shall be self-marshalled in reverential sorrow — mute, and reflecting on your mighty loss — at that moment shall the disgusting contest of an election-wrangle break the so- lemnity of such a scene ? Is it fitting that any man 55 should overlook the crisis, and risk the monstrous and disgusting contest? Is it fitting that I should be that man? Exercise 99. Death of Sheridan. — Byron. The flash of wit — the bright intelligence, The beam of song — the blaze of eloquence, Set with their sun — but still have left behind The enduring produce of immortal mind; 5 Fruits of a genial morn, and glorious noon, A deathless part of him who died too soon. Ex. 99.] EXERCISES. PART II. 253 But small that portion of the wondrous whole, These sparkling segments of that circling soul, Which all embraced — and lightened over ail, 10 To cheer — to pierce — to please — or to appal: From the charmed council to the festive board. Of human feelings the unbounded lord ; In whose acclaim the loftiest voices vied, The praised — the proud — who made his praise their pride 15 When the loud x cry of trampled Hindustan Arose to Heaven in her appeal from man, His was the thunder — his the avenging rod, The wrath — the delegated voice of God ! Which shook the nations through his lips — and blazed, 20 Till vanquished senates trembled as they praised. And here, oh! here, where yet all young and warm, The gay creations of his spirit charm, The matchless dialogue — the deathless wit, Which knew not w T hat it was to intermit ; 25 The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring, These wondrous beings of his fancy, wrought To fulness by the fiat of his thought, Here in their first abode, you still may meet 30 Bright with the hues of his Promethean heat ; A halo of the light of other days, Which still the splendour of its orb betrays. Ye orators ! whom yet our councils yield, Mourn for the veteran hero of your field! 35 The worthy rival of the wondrous three!* Whose words were sparks of immortality ! Ye Bards! to whom the Drama's Muse is dear, He was your master — emulate him here ! * Ye men of wit and social eloquence ! 40 He was your brother — bear his ashes hence ! While powers of mind almost of boundless range, Complete in kind — as various in their change ; While eloquence — wit — poesy — and mirth, (That humbler harmonist of care on earth,) 45 Survive within our souls — wnile lives our sense Of pride in merit's proud pre-eminence, * Pitt, Fox, and Burke. 22 254 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 9 Q * 00. Long shall we seek his likeness — long in vain. And turn to all of him which may remain, Sighing that nature formed but one such man, 50 And broke the die — in moulding Sheridan ! Exercise 100. The last family of Eastern Greenland. — Montgomery. In the cold sunshine of yon narrow dell, Affection lingers ; there two lovers dwell, Greenland's whole family ; nor long forlorn, There comes a visitant ; a babe is born. 5 O'er his meek helplessness the parents smiled; 7 Twas hope ; — for hope is every mother's child. Then seemed they, in that world of solitude, The Eve and Adam of a race renewed. Brief happiness! too perilous to last: 10 The moon hath waxed and waned, and all is past. Behold the end ! — one morn athwart the wall, They marked the shadow of a reindeer fall, Bounding in tameless freedom o'er the snow; The father tracked him, and with fatal bow 15 Smote down the victim ; but, before his eyes, A rabid she-bear pounced upon the prize; A shaft into the spoiler's flank he sent, She turned in wrath, and limb from limb had rent / The hunter ; but his dagger's plunging steel, 20 With riven bosom, made the monster reel ; Unvanquished, both to closer combat flew, Assailants each, till each the other slew; Mingling their blood from mutual wounds, they lay Stretched on the carcass of their antlered prey. 25 Meanwhile his partner waits, her heart at rest, No burden but her infant on her breast; With him she slumbers, or with him she plays, And tells him all her dreams of future days, -Asks him a thousand questions, feigns replies, 30 And reads what e'er she wishes in his eyes. — Red evening comes ; no husband 1 s shadow falls. Where fell the reindeer's, o'er the latticed walls ; 'Tis night ! no footstep sounds towards her door ; Ex. s.\Ju, LOt.] EXERCISES.— PART IT. 255 The day returns, — but he returns no more. 35 in frenzy forth she sallies, and with cries, To which no voice except her own replies, In frightful echoes, starting all around, Where human voice again shall never sound, She seeks him, finds him not ; some angel guide 40 In mercy turns her from the corpse aside: Perhaps his own freed spirit, lingering near, Who waits to waft her to a happier sphere, But leads her first, at evening to their cot, Where lies the little one, all day forgot ; 45 Imparadised in sleep, she finds him there, Kisses his cheek, and breathes a mother's prayer. Three days she languishes, nor can she shed One tear between the living and the dead ; When her lost spouse comes o'er the widow's thought, 50 The pangs of memory are to madness wrought; But, when her suckling's eager lips are felt, Her heart would fain — but Oh ! it cannot melt; At length it breaks, while on her lap he lies, With baby wonder gazing in her eyes. 55 Poor orphan ! mine is not a hand to trace Thy little story, last of all thy race ! Not long thy sufferings ; cold and colder grown, The arms that clasp thee, chill thy limbs to stone. — 'Tis done : — from Greenland's coast the latest sigh 60 Bore infant innocence beyond the sky. Exercise 101. The City and the Country. — M/Donnough. .The arrival of the two mountaineers was not long in being known to the whole household in May Fair. Lit- tle Mary had hoisted the tartan in less time than the ordinary tribe of lady's maids could easily comprehend, 5 and having hoisted that, she descended the stairs with more rapidity than is customary with even that light- footed tribe. " The shakings by the hand, the " good graciouses! and are you there?" the uninterrupted in- quiries, the questions answered by a look, and the ques- 10 tions so rapid as not to admit of that brief response, pass- 256 i EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 10L ed like the shadow of a cloud upon a Highland glen — like the ruffling of the wind upon a Highland lake. The castle, the loch, the river, the cliff — every field, every hill, e\xry spot, and almost every bush, had its note of 1 5 recollection, and its tribute of praise. There is something exquisite in this — something which the inhabitants of thronged cities, cannot appre- ciate. But in the patriarchal land of the north, there is, or there was, ere avarice laid it waste, or the love of 20 money made it a desolation — a love of every thing thai was, as well as of every thing that is. The same an- cient stone which sheltered the sire, shelters the son ; against the tree which his father planted, no man will lift up an axe ; and the resting-place of the departed is 25 sacred as long as life warms a heart, which was present when they were laid in the dust. In a great city, man, dependent on his own exertions, following the bent of his own passions or appetites, and reckless of every gra- tification but those of himself, is disjointed from man. 30 The tenants of the same roof, know not the names of each other, and to be parted by one paltry brick, makes a separation as complete, as though they dwelt at the an- tipodes. Not only is man disjointed from man, but age is disjointed from age. The people who inhabit a street 35 or a square, now know nothing and care nothing about those who inhabited it immediately before; and their brief memorial will be as quickly blotted out by t!»4 per- sons whom chance may afterwards place in the same situation. Thus, while the great city brings the bodies 40 of men together, it scatters their minds, breaks all the ties and links of sympathetic society, and piles up its tens and hundreds of thousands, (to all intents and pur- poses of deep feeling and delightful intercourse,) like the cold, hard, unadhering and unconnected particles of 45 a mountain of sand, which the wind of whim, or chance, or commerce, may whisk about just as the sand parti- cles by the Red Sea are whisked about on the wings of the deadly saniel. In the retirement of the country, and especially in that country from which our humble 50 visitors have come, and to which our lovely heroine is looking, it is not so. There man is united to man, and age is linked with age, in the closest ties of friendship, the most delightful bonds of sympathy, the most touching Ex. 101, 102. j EXERCISES. PART II. 257 reminiscences of sorrow, and the fondest anticipations 55 of hope. If a man would eat, drink, die, and be for- gotten, let his dwelling place be in the city : if he would live, love, and be remembered, let him speed him to the glens of the mountains. Exercise 102. death-shriek with a loud halloo of vin- dictive triumph, over which, however, the yell of mortal agony was distinctly heard. The heavy burden splash- ed in the dark blue waters of the lake, and the High- landers, with their pole-axes and swords, watched an in- 50 stant, to guard, lest, extricating himself from the load to which he was attached, he might have struggled to regain the shore. But the knot had been securely bound; the victim sunk without effort ; the waters which his fall had disturbed, settled calmly over him, 55 and the unit of that life for which he had pleaded so strongly, was forever withdrawn from the sum of human existence. Exercise 103. On the receipt of his Mother's Picture. — Cowper. Could Time, his flight reversed, restore the hours, When, playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers, The violet, the pink, the jessamine, [ pricked them into paper with a pin, — 5 (And thou wast happier than myself the while, Wouldst softly speak, and stroke my head and smiles- Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? I would not trust my heart — the dear delight 10 Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. — Rut, no— what here we call our life is such, Bo little to be loved, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain Ex. 103, 104.] EXERCISES. PART II. 259 Thy unbound spirit into bonds again. 15 Thou as a gallant bark from Albion's coast, (The storms all weathered, and the ocean crossed,) Shoots into port at some well-havened isl®, Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile, There sits quiescent on the floods, that show 20 Her beauteous form reflected clear below, While airs impregnated with incense nlay Around her fanning light her streamers gay , So thou, with sails how swift! hast reached the shore, " Where tempests never beat, nor billows roar," 25 And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life, long since has anchored by thy side. But me, scarce hoping to attain that rest, Always from port withheld, always distressed — Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-tossed, 30 Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and compasb lost, And day by day some current's thwarting force, Sets me more distant from a prosperous course. Yet, O the thought, that thou art safe, and he I That thought is joy, arrive what may to me. 35 My boast is not, that I deduce my birth From loins enthron'd, and rulers of the Earth; But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents, passed into the skies. Exercise 104. Extract from " The Grave ." — Montgomery. 1 There is a calm for those who weep ; A rest for weary pilgrims found: They softly lie, and sweetly sleep, Low in the ground ! 2 The storm that wrecks the winter sky, No more disturbs their deep repose, Than summer-evening's latest sigh, That shuts the rose. 3 I long to lay this painful head, And aching heart, beneath the soil ; To slumber in that dreamless bed, From all my toil. 260 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 104, 105 4 Art thou a wanderer ? — hast thou seen O'erwhelming tempests drown thy bark? A shipwrecked sufferer hast thou been, Misfortune's mark? 5 Though long of winds and wav js the sport. Condemned in wretchedness to roam, Live ! thou shalt reach a sheltering port, A quiet home ! G There is a calm for those who weep ! A rest for weary pilgrims found: And while the mouldering ashes sleep Low in the ground ; — 7 The soul, of origin Divine, God's glorious image, freed from clay, In Heaven's eternal sphere shall shine A star of day ! 8 The sun, is but a spark of fire, A transient meteor in the sky ; The soul, immortal as its Sire, Shall never die ! Exercise 105. Defence of Johnson. — Curran. Even if it should be my client's fate to be surrender- ed to his keepers — to be torn from his family — to have his obsequies performed by torch light — to be carried to a foreign land, and to a strange tribunal, where no 5 witness can attest his innocence, where no voice that he ever heard can be raised in his defence, where he must stand mute, not of his own malice, but the malice of his enemies — yes, even so, I see nothing for him to fear; — that all-gracious Being, that shields the feeble from the 10 oppressor, will fill his heart with hope, and confidence, and courage; his sufferings will be his armour, and his weakness will be his strength. He will find himself in the hands of a brave, a just, and a generous nation — he will find that the bright, examples of her Russels and 15 her Sydney s have not been lost to her children. They Ex. 105.] EXERCISES — PART II. 261 will behold him with sympathy and respect, and his persecutors with shame and abhorrence; they will feel too, that what is then his situation, may to-morrow be their own — but their first tear will be shed for him, 20 and the second onl,y for themselves. Their hearts will melt in his acquittal ; they will convey him kindly and fondly to their shore ; and he will return in triumph to his country; to the threshold of his sacred home, and to the weepinq welcome of his delighted family. He will 25 find that the darkness of a dreary and a lingering night hath at length passed away, and that joy cometh in th.p morning. — No, my Lords, I have no fear for the ultimate safety of my client. Even in these very acts of brutal violence that have been committed against him, do I 30 hail the flattering hope of final advantage to him — and not only of final advantage to him, but of better days and more prosperous fortune for this afflicted country — that country of which I have so often abandoned all hope, and which I have been so often determined to quit for- 35 ever. I have repented — I have staid — and I am at once re- buked and rewarded by the happier hopes that I now entertain. In the anxious sympathy of the public — in the anxious sympathy of my learned brethren, do I catch 40 the happy presage of a brighter fate for Ireland. They see, that within these sacred walls, the cause of liberty and of man may be pleaded with boldness and heard with favour. I am satisfied they will never forget the great trust, of which they alone are now the remaining 45 depositaries. While they continue to cultivate a sound philosophy — a mild and tolerating Christianity — and to make both the sources of a just and liberal, and consti- tutional jurisprudence, I see every thing for us to hope; into Cheir hands, therefore, with the most affectionate 50 confidence in their virtue, do I commit these precious hopes. Even J may live long enough yet to see the approaching completion, if not the perfect accomplish- ment of them. Pleased shall I .then resign the scene to fitter actors — pleased shall I lay down my wearied head to 55 rest, and say, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart id peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." 262 EXERCISES. PART II. 'Ex. .06. Exercise 106. Taking of Warsaw. — C a mpbell. 1 When leagued Oppression poured to northern wars Her whiskered pandoors and her fierce hussars, Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn, Peaied her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet horn; Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van, Presaging wrath to Poland — and to man ! 2 Warsaw's last champion, from her height surveyed Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid, — (°°) Oh ! Heaven ! he cried, my bleeding country save Is there no hand on high to shield the brave? Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains, Rise, fellow men ! our country, yet remains ! By that dread name, we wave the sword on high, And swear for her to live ! — with her to die ! 3 ( ) He said, and on the rampart-heights arrayed His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed ! Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm ; Low, murmuring sounds along their banners fly, Revenge, or death,-— the watchword and reply ; (<) Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm, And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm! — 4 ( — ) In vain, alas ! in vain, ye gallant few ! From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew: — Oh ! bloodiest picture in the book of Time, Saimatia fell, unwept, without a crime; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her wo ! Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered speai Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career!— Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell, And Freedom shrieked — as Kosciusko fell. 5 The sun went down, nor ceased the carnage there Tumultuous murder shook the midnight air — On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow, His blood-dyed waters rnurm'ring far below; Ex. 106, 107.] EXERCISES. PART II. 4 263 The storm prevails, the ramparts yield away, Bursts the wild cry of horror and dismay; HarK' as the smouldering piles with thunder fall, A -thousand shrieks f or hopeless mercy call ! Earth shook — red meteors flashed along the sky, And conscious nature shuddered at the cry ! 6 Departed spirits of the mighty dead ! Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled ! Friends of the world ! restore your swords to man, Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van ! Yet for Samarlia's tears of blood atone, And make her arm puissant as your own ! Oh ! once again to Freedom's cause return The patriot Tell — the Bruce of Bannockburn ! Exercise 107. ■Lord Chatham.-— -Butler. Of those, by whom Lord North was preceded, none, probably, except Lord Chatham, will be remember- ed by posterity ; but the nature of the eloquence of this extraordinary man, it is extremely difficult to de- 5 scribe. No person in his external appearance was ever more bountifully gifted by nature for an orator. In his look and his gesture, grace and dignity were combined, but dignity presided ; the " terrors of his beak, the light- 10 nings of his eye," were insufferable. His voice was both full and clear ; his lowest whisper was distinctly heard, his middle tones were sweet, rich, and beautifully varied ; when he elevated his voice to its highest pitch, the house was completely filled with the volume of the 15 sound. The effect was awful, except when he wished jo cheer or animate ; he then had spirit stirring notes, which were perfectly irresistible. He frequently rose, on a sudden, from a very low to a very high key, but it seemed to be without effort. His diction was remark- 20 ably simple, but words were never chosen with greater care; he mentioned to a friend that he had perused some of Dr. Barrow 1 s Sermons so often as to know them by heart. 264 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 107, His sentiments too, were apparently simple ; but senti- 25 ments were never adopted or uttered with greater skill ; he was often familiar and even playful, but it was the fa- miliarity and playfulness of cordescension — the lion that dandled with the kid. The terrible, however, was his peculiar power. — Then the whole house sunk before him. 3C — Still he was dignified ; and wonderful as was his elo- quence, it was attended with this most important effect, that it impressed every hearer with a conviction, that there was something in him even finer than his words ; that the man was infinitely greater than the orator. No 35 impression of this kind was made by the eloquence ot his son, or his son's antagonist. Still, — with the great man, — for great he certainly was, — manner did much. One of the fairest specimens which we possess of his lordship's oratory, is his speech, in 1776, for the repeal of the stamp act. 40 Most, perhaps, who read the report of this speech, in Aimon's Register, will wonder at the effect, which it is known to have produced on the hearers : yet the report is tolerably exact, and exhibits, although faintly, its lead- ing features. But they should have seen the look of in- 45 efTable contempt, with which he surveyed the late Mr. Grenville, who sat within one of him, and should have heard him say with that look, — '* As to the late minis- try, — every capital measure they have taken, has been entirely wrong" They should also have beheld him, 50 when addressing himself to Mr. Gren vale's successors, he said, — " As to the present gentlemen, — those, at least, whom 1 have in my eye," — (looking at the bench on which Mr. Conway sat,) — "I have no objection; I have never been made a sacrifice by any of them. — 55 Some of them have done me the honour to ask my poor opinion, before they would engage to repeal the act: — they will do me the justice to own, I did advise them to engage to do it, — but notwithstanding — (for I love to he explicit,) — I cannot give them my confidence. Pardon 60 me, gentlemen," — (bowing to them,) — " confidence is a plant of slow growth." Those, who remember the ail of condescending protection, with which the bow was made, and the look given, when he spoke these words, will recollect how much they themselves, at the moment, 65 were both delighted and awed, and what they them- Ex. 107, 108] EXERCISES. PART II. 265 * Ives then conceived of the immeasurable superiority ^f the orator over every human being that surrounded him. In the passages which we have cited, there is 70 nothing which an ordinary speaker might not have said; it was the manner, and the manner only, which produced the effect. Exercise 108. Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt. — Butler. On his first separation from the ministry, Mr. Fox as- sumed the character of a whig. Almost the whole of his political life was spent in op- position to his majesty's ministers. In vehemence and 5 power of argument he resembled Demosthenes ; but there the resemblance ended. He possessed a strain of ridicule and wit, which nature denied to the Athenian; and it was the more powerful, as it always appeared to be blended with argument, and to result from it. To 10 the perfect composition which so eminently distinguishes the speeches of Demosthenes, he had no pretence. H^ was heedless of method: — having the complete com- mand of good words, he never bought for better: if those, which occurred, expressed his meaning clearly 15 and forcibly, he paid little attention to their arrange- ment or harmony. The moment of his grandeur was, when, after he had stated the argument of his adversary, with much greater strength than his adversary had done, and with much 2U greater than any of his hearers thought possible, he seized it with the strength oi a giant, and tore and trampled on it to destruction. If. at this moment, he had possessed the power of the Athenian over the pas- sions or the imaginations of his hearers, he might have 25 disposed of the house at his pleasure : but this was de- nied to him: and, on this account, his speeches fell very short of the effect, which otherwise they must have pro- duced. It is difficult to decide on the comparative merit of 30 him and Mr, Pitt; the latter had not the vehemert rea- soning, or argumentative ridicule, of Mr. Fox : but he 23 266 exercises. — rART ii. [Ex. 108. 109. had more splendour, more imagery, and n.ach more method and discretion. His long, lofty, and reverential panegyrics of the British constitution, his eloquent vi- $5 tuperations of those, whom he described as advocating the democratic spirit, then let loose on the inhabitants of the earth, and his solemn adjuration of the house, to de- fend and to assist him, in defending their all against it t were, in the highest degree, Loth imposing and concili] tO ating. In addition, he had the command of bitter, con- temptuous sarcasm, which tortured to madness. This he could expand or compress at pleasure: even in one member of a sentence, he could inflict a wound that was never healed. 45 Mr. Fox had a captivating earnestness of tone and manner; Mr. Pitt was more dignified than earnest. The action of Mr. Fox was easy and graceful ; Mr. Pitt's cannot be praised. It was an observation of the reporters in the gallery, that it required great exertion 50 to follow Mr. Fox while he was speaking ; none to re- member what he had said; that it was easy and de- lightful to follow Mr. Pitt; not so easy to recollect what had delighted them. It may be added, that, in all Mr. Fox's speeches, even when he was most violent, there 55 was an unquestionable indication of good humour, which attracted every heart. Where there was such a seeming equipoise of merit, the two last circumstances might be thought to turn the scale; but Mr. Pitt's un- deviating circumspection, — sometimes concealed, some- 60 times ostentatiously displayed, — tended to obtain for him, from the considerate and the grave, a confidence which they denied to his rival. Exercise 109. Death of Lord Chatham. — Percy. Lord Chatham entered the House of Lords for the last time on the 7th of April 1778, leaning upon two friends. He was wrapped up in flannel, and looked pale and ema- ciated. His eye was still penetrating; and though with the evident appearance of a dying man, there never was seen a figure of more dignity ; he appeared like a being Ei. 109.] EXERCISES. PART II 267 of superior species. He rose from his seat slowly, and with difficulty, leaning on his crutches, and supported under each arm by two of his friends. He took one 13 hand from his crutch, and raised it, casting his eyes toward heaven, and said, u I thank God that I have been enabled to come here this day — to perform my duty, and to speak on a subject which has so deeply impressed my mind. I am old and infirm; have one foot, more than 15 one foot, in the grave. I am risen from my bed, to stand up in the cause of my country ! perhaps never again to speak in this house! 53 At first he spoke in a very low and feeble tone ; but as he grew warm, his voice rose, and was as harmonious as ever, perhaps more oratorical 20 and affecting than at any former period ; both from his own situation, and from the importance of the subject on which he spoke. He gave the whole history of the Amer- ican war; of ail the measures to which he had objected ; and all the evils which he had prophesied would be the 25 consequence of them ; adding, at the end of each, " And so it proved." In "one part of his speech he ridiculed the apprehen- sion of an invasion; and then recalled J he remembrances of former invasions. " Of a Spanish invasion, of a 30 French invasion, of a Dutch invasion, many noble lords may have read in history ; and some lords (looking keen- ly at one who sat near him,) may perhaps remember a Scotch invasion !" When the Duke of Richmond was speaking, he looked 35 at him with attention and composure ; but when he rose to answer, his strength failed him, and he fell backward. He was instantly supported by those who were near him. He was then carried to Mr. Serjent's house in Downing street ; and from thence conveyed home to Hayes, and 40 put to bed from which he never rose. Such was the glorious end of the great Lord Chatham, who died in the discharge of a great political duty, a duty which he came in a dying state to perform. 268 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 110 Exercise 110. Lord Mansfield. — Percy. It is yet the traditionary tale of the country that gave this great orator and lawyer birth, that almost in infan- cy he was accustomed to declaim upon his native moun- tains, and repeat to the winds the most celebrated speeches 5 of Demostneijes and Cicero, not only in their original text, but 'n his cwn translations of them. Mansneid advanced to the dignities of the state by rapid strides. They were not bestowed by the caprice of party favour or affection; they were (as was said ol 10 Pliny) liberal dispensations of power, upon an object that knew how to add new lustre to that power, by the ra tional exertion of bis own. As a speaker in the House of Lords, he was without a competitor. His language w r as elegant and perspicu- 15 ous, arranged with the happiest method, and applied with the utmost extent of haman ingenuity; his images were often bold, and always just; but the more prevail- ing character of his eloquence, was that of being flowing, soft, delightful, and affecting Among his more rare 20 qualifications, may be ranked the external graces of his person ; the fire and vivacity of his looks ; the delicious harmony of his voice; and that habitual fitness in all he said, which gave to his speeches more than the e^ect ol the most laboured compositions. He was modest and 25 unassuming; never descending to personal altercation, or even replying to personal reflections, except when they went to affect the integrity of his public character. When instances of the latter occurred, he evinced that he was not without a spirit to repel them ; of this he gave a 30 memorable proof, in the debate on Wilkes' outlawry, when, being accused of braving the popular opinion, he replied in the following noble strain of eloquence. 44 If I have ever supported the king's measures; if I have ever afforded any assistance to government : if I 35 have discharged my duty as a public or private officer, by endeavouring to preserve pure and perfect the prin- ciples + of the constitution; maintaining unsullied the honour of the courts of justice ; and by an upright admin- istration ofi to give due effect to, the laws; I have hith- Ex. 110.] EXERCISES. PART II. 269 40 erto done it without any other gift or reward, than that most pleasing and most honourable one, the conscientious conviction of doing what is right. I do not affect to scorn the opinion of mankind ; I wish earnestly for pop uiarity; but- I will tell you how I will obtain it: I will 45 have thai popularity which follows, and not that which is run after. 'Tis not the applause of a day; 'tis not the huzzas of thousands, that can give a moment's satis- faction to a rational being; that man's mind must, in- deed, be a weak one, and his ambition of a most deprav- 50 ed sort, who can be captivated by such wretched allure- ments, or satisfied with such momentary gratifications. I say with the Roman orator, and can say it with as much truth as he did, 'Ego hoc animo semperfui ut invidiam virtute partem, gloriam non infamiam putarem.' But 55 threats have been carried further; personal violence has been denounced, unless public humor be complied w T ith. I do not fear such threats; I don't believe there is any reason to fear them ; it is not the genius of the worst of men in the worst of times, to proceed to such shocking 60 extremities ; but if such an event should hnppen, let it be so; even such an event might be productive of whole- some effects ; such a stroke might rouse the better part of the nation from their lethargic condition, to a state of activity, to assert and execute the law, and punish the 65 daring and impious hands which* had violated it; and those who now supinely behold the danger which threat- ens all liberty from the most abandoned licentiousness, might by such an event be awakened to a sense of their situation, as drunken men are often shamed into sobriety. 70 If the security of our persons and property, of all we hold dear or valuable, are to depend upon the caprice of a giddy multitude, or to be at the disposal of a mob ; if, in compliance with the humors, and to appease the clamors of these, all civil and political institutions are to be dis- 75 regarded or overthrown ; a life somewhat more than sixty, is not worth preserving at such a price, and he can never die too soon, who lays down his life in support and vin- dication of the policy, the government, and the constitu- tion of his country." 23* 270 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. Hi, Exercise 111. Providential Distinctions. — Pollok. One man there was, — and many such you might Have met — who never had a dozen thoughts In all his life, and never changed their course; But told them o'er, each in its 'customed place, 5 From morn till night, from youth till hoary age. Little above the ox which grazed the field His reason rose : so weak his memory, The name his mother called him by, he scarce Remembered ; arid his judgement so untaught, 10 That what at evening played along the swamp, Fantastic, clad 'in robe of fiery hue, He thought the devil in disguise, and fled With quivering heart, and winged footsteps home. The word philosophy he never heard, 15 Or science; never heard of liberty, Necessity ; or laws of gravitation : And never had an unbelieving doubt. Beyond his native vale he never looked ; But thought the visual line, that girt him round, 20 The world's extreme: and thought the silver moon, That nightly o'er him led her virgin host, No broader than his father's shield. He lived — Lived where his father lived — died where hevSedj Lived happy, and died happy, and was saved. 25 Be not surprised. He loved, and served his God. There was another, large of understanding, Of memory infinite, of judgement deep : Who knew all learning, and all science knew; And all phenomena m heaven and earth, 30 Traced to their causes; traced the labyrinths Of thought, association, passion, will ; And all the subtile, nice affinities Of matter, traced ; its virtues, motions, laws, And most familiarly and deeply talked 35 Of mental, moral, natural, divine. Leaving the earth at will, he soared to heaven, And read the glorious visions of the skies; And to the music of the rolling spheres Intelligently listened ; and gazed far back, 40 Into the awful depths of Deity. Ex. Ill, 112.] EXERCISES. PART II. 271 Did all, that mind assisted most, could do ; And yet in misery lived, in misery died, Because he wanted holiness of heart. A deeper lesson this to mortals taught, 45 And nearer cut the branches of their pride: That not in mental, but in moral worth, God, excellence placed ; and only to the good, To virtue, granted happiness alone. Exercise 112. Eloquence of Bossuet. — Butler. We have mentioned Mr. Burke's endless corrections of his compositions; Bossuet, by the account of his Benedictine editors, was equally laborious ; but in this they differed : that Burke appears to have been satisfied 5 with his original conceptions, and to have been fastidious only in respect to words and phrases ; Bossuet seems to have been equally dissatisfied with his first thoughts and his first words. Rousseau himself has informed us, that between his 10 first committing of a sentence to paper and his final settlement of it, his obliterations and alterations were countless. That this should have been the case of such writers as Robertson or Gibbon, is not surprising: their eternal batteries and counter-batteries of words, seem 15 to be the effect of much reflection and many second thoughts ; but that it should have been the case with writers like Bossuet, Burke, and Rousseau, who appear to pour streams equally copious and rapid of unpremed- itated eloquence, appears extraordinary: it justifies the 20 common remark, that we seldom read with pleasure, what has not been composed with labour. Such are the pages of Addison, such the Offices of Cicero; such also, but in a superlative degree, are many passages of Mil- ton : Akenside, his imitator, with all his genius, taste, 25 and labour, never attained it; he does not exhibit a sin- gle instance of this perfect composition : but we often find it in Gray. Every thing we know of Bossuet, leads us to think that he had a very feeling heart ; it certainly is discern- 272 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 112. 30 ible in every line of his funeral oration on the princess Henrietta. He chose for his text the verse of Ecclesi- astes, so suitable to the occasion, "Vanity of vanities I All is vanity !" Having pronounced these words, he re- mained for some time in silence, evidently overpowered 35 by his feelings. " It was to be my lot," he then ex- claimed, " to perform this melancholy duty to the mem- ory of this illustrious princess! She, whom I had ob- served so attentive, while I performed the same duty to her royal mother, was herself so soon to become the 40 theme of a similar discourse ! — And my voice was so soon to be exerted in discharging the like melancholy duty to her ! O vanity ! O nothing ! O mortals ! ever ignorant of what awaits you !■ — But a month ago would she have thought it ! You, who then beheld her drown- 45 ed in tears for her mother's loss, would you have thought it! Would you have thought, that you were so soon to meet again to bewail her own fate! O va,nity of vani- ties ! All is vanity ! These are the only words ! the only reflection, which, in such an event, my sorrow 50 leaves me !" After this eloquent exordium, Bossuet pursues his dis- mal theme. He describes, in strains, always eloquent, but always mournful, the short but brilliant career of the princess; — so highly stationed, so greatly gifted, so 55 widely admired, and so generally loved ! The idol of the world ! The pride of her august family ! the de- light of all who approached her! — " Yet what," he ex- claimed, "is all this, which we, so much below it, so greatly admire ! While we tremble in the view of the 60 great, God smites them, that they may serve as warn- ings to us. Yes, so little does he consider these great ones, that he makes them often serve as mere materials for our instruction! — We have always sufficient reason to be convinced of our nothingness; but if, to wean our 65 hearts from the fascination of the world, the wonderful ami the astonishing is necessary, what we now behold is sufficiently terrible. O night of wo! O night of hor- ror ! When, like a peal of thunder, the dreadful words, — Henrietta is dying — Henrietta is dead — burst upon us ! 70 Nothing could be heard but cries ; — nothing was discern- ible but grief, despair, and the image of death!" — The writers of the time mentioned that when Bossuet pro- Ex. 112, 113.J EXERCISES. PART II. 273 nounced these words, the whole audience arose from their seats; that terror was visible in every countenance, 75 and that, for some moments, Bossuet himself was unable to proceed. Exercise 113. Eloquence of Bourdaloue. — Butler. In delivering his sermons, Bourdaloue used no ac- tion; Bossuet and Massillcn used much; the action of the last was particularly admired. It produced an ex- traordinary effect, when he pronounced his funeral ora- 5 tion upon Lewis the Fourteenth. The church was hung with black, a magnificent mausoleum was raised over the bier, the edifice was filled with trophies and other memorials of the monarch's past glories, daylight was excluded, but innumerable tapers supplied its place, 10 and the ceremony was attended by the most illustrious persons in the kingdom. Massillon ascended the pul- pit, contemplated, for some moments, the scene before him, then raised his arms to heaven, looked down on the scene beneath, and, rfter a short pause, slowly said, 15 in a solemn subdued tone, "God only is great!" With one impulse, all the auditory rose from their seats, turn- ed to the altar, and slowly and reverently bowed. Those, who read sermons merely for their lite\ary merit, will generally prefer the sermons of Massillon to 20 those of Bourdaloue and Bossuet. But those who read sermons for instruction, and whose chief object in the perusal of them, is to be excited to viitue or confirm- ed in her paths, will generally consider Bourdaloue as the first of preachers, and every time they peruse him, 25 will feel new delight. When we recollect before whom Bourdaloue preach- ed ; that he had, for his auditors, the most luxurious court in Europe, and a monarch abandoned to ambition and pleasure, we shall find it impossible not to honour 30 the preacher, for the dignified simplicity with which he uniformly held up to his audience the severity of the Gospel, and the scandal of the cross. Now and then, and ever with a very bad grace, he makes an unmean- ing compliment to the monarch. On these occasions, 35 his genius appears to desert him ; but he never disguises 274 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 113. the morality of the Gospel, or withholds its threats. In one of the sermons which he preached before the monarch, he described, with matchless eloquence, the horrors of an adulterous life, its abomination in the eve 40 of God, its scandal to man, and the public and private evils which attend it: but he managed his discourse with so much address, that he kept the king from sus- pecting that the thunder of the preacher was ultimately to fail upon him. In general, Bourdaloue spoke in a 45 level -tone of voice, and with his eyes almost shut. On ■ this occasion, having wound up the attention of the monarch and the audience to the highest pitch, he paus- ed. The audience expected something terrible, and seemed to fear the next word. The pause continued 50 for some time: at length, the preacher, fixing his eyes directly on his royal hearer, and in a tone of voice equally expressive of horror and concern, said, in the words of the prophet, " thou art the man /" then, leaving these words to their effect, he concluded with a mild 55 and general prayer to heaven for the conversion of all sinners. A miserable courtier observed, in a whisper, to the monarch, that the boldness of the preacher ex- ceeded all bounds, and should be checked. " No, sir/' replied the monarch, " the preacher has done his duty, 60 let us do ours" When the service was concluded, the monarch walked slowly from the church, and ordered Bourdaloue into his presence. He remarked to him, his general protection of religion, the kindness which he had ever shown to the Society of Jesus, his particular 65 attention to Bourdaloue and his friends. He then re- proached him with the strong language of the sermon : and asked him, what could be his motive for insulting him, thus jpublicly, before his subjects? Bourdaloue fell on his knees : " God is my witness, that it was 70 not my wish to insult your majesty; but I am a minis- ter of God, and must not disguise his truths. What I said in my sermon is my morning and evening prayer: — May God, in his infinite mercy, grant me to see the day, when the greatest of kings shall be the holiest." — 75 The monarch was affected, and silently dismissed the preacher: but, from this time, the court began to ob- serve that change which afterward, and at no distant period, led Lewis to a life of regularity and virtue. ex 114.] exercises. part ii. 275 Exercise 114. i Eloquence of Briclaine. — Butler. " The missionary orator, most renowned in our days, says Maury, was M. Bridaine. Highly gifted with pop- alar eloquence, full of animation, abounding in figures and pathos, no one possessed, in an equal degree, the 5 rare- talent of commanding an assembled multitude. The organ of his voice was so powerful and happy, as to render credible what ancient history relates of the de- clamation of the ancients ; he made himself as well heard in open air, to an assembly of 10,000 persons, as 10 if he spoke under the vault of the most sonorous temple. In all he said, there might be discovered that natural eloquence, which originates from genius ; that bound of natural vigour, which is superior to any imitation. His bold metaphors; his quick and vivid turns of thought 15 and expression, equally surprised, affected and delighted. His eloquence was always simple, but it was always noble in its simplicity. With these endowments, he never failed to raise and preserve the attention of the people; they were never tired of listening to him." 20 In 1751, he preached in the church of St. Sulpice, at Paris. His renown had preceded him; and the temple was filled with the highest dignitaries of the church and state, decorated with the various insignia of their ranks and orders. The venerable man ascended the pulpit, 25 cast a look of indignation and pity on his audience, re- mained in silence for some moments, and then began his sermon in these words : — " In the presence of an audience of a kind so new to me, it might, my brethren, be thought, that I should not open my mouth, without 30 entreating your indulgence to a poor missionary, who does not possess any one of the talents, which you are pleased to require from those who address you on the salvation of your souls. My feelings are very different. May God forbid, that any minister of the gospel shall 35 ever think he owes an apology for preaching Gospel truths to you ; for, whoever you are, you, like myself, are sinners in the judgement of God. Till this day, I have published the judgements of the Most High in the temples roofed with straw: I have preached the rigours 276 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 114, 115. 40 of penance to an audience, most of whom wanted bread. I have proclaimed, to the simple inhabitants of the vil- lages, the most terrible truths of religion^ — Unhappy man! — what have I done? — I have afflicted the poor, the best friends of my God. I ha^e carried consterna 45 tion and wo into simple and honest bosoms, which I ought rather to have soothed and comforted. " But here ! — where my eyes fall on the great, on the rich, on the oppressors of suffering humanity, or on bold and hardened sinners ; it is here, — in the midst of these 50 scandals, — that I ought to make the holy word resound in all its thunders, and place on one side of me, death, that threatens you, and the great God, who is to judge us all. Tremble, ye proud, disdainful men, who listen to me ! Tremble ! for the abuse of favours of every kind, 55 which God has heaped on you ! Think on the certainty of death: the uncertainty of its hour: how terrible it will be to you ! Think on final impenitence, — on the last judgement, — on the small number of the elect, and, above all, think on eternity! These are the subjects 60 upon which I shall discourse to you, and which, with the feelings I have mentioned, [ ought to unfold to you all in all their terrors." u Who, 1 ' exclaims Cardinal Maury, " does not feel, both while he reads, and after he has read such an ex- 65 ordium how much this eloquence of the soul is beyond the cold pretensions of the elegant men, with which our pulpits are now filled? Ye orators, who attend only to y r our own reputation, acknowledge here your master! Fall at the feet of this apostolic man, and learn, from a 70 missionary priest, what is true eloquence. Exercise 115. Eloquence of White field. — Gillies. The eloquence of Whitefield was indeed very great, and of the truest kind. He was utterly devoid of all ap- pearance of affectation. He seemed to be quite uncon- scious of the talents he possessed. The importance of 5 his subject, and the regard due to his hearers engrossed all his concern. He spoke like one w r ho did not seek their applause, but was concerned for their best interests ; Ex 115] EXERCISES. PART II. 277 and who, from a principle of unfeigned love, earnestly endeavoured to lead them in the right Way. And fae 10 effect, in some measure, corresponded to the design. They did not amuse themselves with commending his discourses ; but being moved and persuaded by what he said, entered into his views, felt his passions, and were willing for a time, at least, to comply with all his requests. 1 5 The charm, however, was nothing else but the power of his irresistible eloquence ; in which respect, it is not easy to say, whether he was ever excelled either in an- cient or modern times. Fie had a strong and musical voice, and a wonderful 20 command of it. His pronunciation was not only pro- per, but manly and graceful. Nor was he ever at a loss for the most natural and strong expressions. Yet, these in him were but lower qualities. The grand sources of his eloquence were an exceed- 25 ing lively imagination, which made people think they saw what he described : an action still more lively, if possible, by which, w r hile every accent of his voice spoke to the ear, every feature of his face, every motion of his hands, and every gesture spoke to the eye. 30 An intimate friend of the infidel Hume, asked him what he thought of Mr. Whitefleld's preaching; for he nad listened to the latter part of one of his sermons at Edinburgh. "He is, sir," said Mr. Hume, "the most ingenious preacher I ever heard. It is worth while to go 35 twenty miles to hear him." He then repeated the fol- lowing passage which he heard, towards the close of that discourse: "After a solemn pause, Mr. Whitefield thus addressed his numerous audience ; — ; The attendant an- gel is just about to leave the threshold, and ascend to 40 heaven. And shall he ascend and not bear with him the news of one sinner, among all this multitude, reclaimed from the error of his ways?' To give the greater effect to this exclamation, he stamped with his foot, lifted up his hands and eyes to heaven, and with gushing tears, 45 cried aloud, * Stop, Gabriel! — Stop, Gabriel! — Stop, ero you enter the sacred portals, and yet carry with you the news of one sinner converted to God.' He then, in the most simple, but energetic language, described a Sa- viour's dying love to sinful man ; so that almost the whole 50 assembly melted into tears. This address was accom- 24. 278 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 115, I 1 0. pa^ed with such animated, yet natural action, that it surpassed any thing I ever saw or heard in any otht r preacher." Happy had it been for poor Hume, had he received 55 what he then heard. " as the word of God, and not as the word of man!" Dr. Franklin, in his memoirs, bears witness to the extraordinary effect which was produced by Mr. White- field's preaching in America; and relates an anecdote 60 equally characteristic of the preacher and of himself. " I happened," says the doctor, " to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a 65 handful of copper money, three or fuur silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded, I began to soften, and concluded to give the copper. Another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and de- termined me to give the silver ; and he finished so ad- 70 mirably, that I emptied my pocket wholly into the col- lector's dish, gold and all. At this sermon there was also one of our club ; who, being of my sentiments res- pecting the building in Georgia, and suspecting a col- lection might be intended, had by precaution emptied 75 his pockets before he came from home; towards the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and applied to a neighbour who stood near him to lend him some money for the purpose. The request was fortunately made to perhaps the only 80 man in the company who had the firmness not to be affected by the preacher. His answer was, "at any other time, friend Hodgkinson, I would lend to thee freely; but not now, for thee seems to be out of thy right senses." Exercise 116. Satan's Lamentation. — Milton. O had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd Me some inferior angel, I had stood Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais'd Ambition. Yet why not 1 Some other power Ex. I 16] EXERCISES. PART II. 279 5 As great might have aspir'd, and me, though mean, Drawn to his part; but other powers as great Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within Or from without, to all temptations arm'd. Hadst thou the same free will and pow'r to stand? 10 Thou hadst: Whom hast thou then, or what, (.'accuse, But Leav'n's free love dealt equally to all? Me miserable! which way shall I fly, Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? Which way 1 fly is hell; myself am hell; 15 ~^nd\ in the lowest deep, a lower deep Still threat'ning to devour me, opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven. O then at last relent: Is there no place Left for repentance, none for pardon left ? 20 None left but by submission ; and that word Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame Among the sp'rits beneath, whom I seduc'd With other promises and other vaunts Than to submit, boasting I could subdue 25 Th' Omnipotent. Ah me, they little know How dearly I abide that boast so vain ! Under what torments inwardly I groan, While they adore me on the throne of hell I With diadem and sceptre high advanced, 30 The lower still I fall, only supreme la misery: Such joy ambition finds. But say I could repent, and could obtain, Bv act of grace, my former state; how soon Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay 35 What feign' d submission swore? ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void. This knows my punisher : therefore as far ■ From granting he, as I from begging peace: All hopL excluded thus, behold instead 40 Of us outcast, exil'd his new delight, Mankind created, and for him this world. So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, Farewell remorse : All good to me is lost. 280 exercises. part ii. [ex. 117 Exercise 117. Eloquence of Sheridan. Public curiosity was scarcely ever so strongly interest- ed as on the day when Mr. Sheridan was to speak on the Begum charge on the impeachment of Mr. Hastings. The avenues leading to the hall were filled with persons . 5 of the first distinction, many of them peeresses in full dress, who waited in the open air for upwards of an hour and a half, before the gates were opened, when the crowd pressed so eagerly forward, that many persons had nearly perished. No extract can do justice to this 10 speech; the following is a partial specimen of its power: " When we hear the description o'fthe paroxysm, fever, and delirium, into which despair had thrown the natives, when on the banks of the polluted Ganges, panting for death, they tore more widely open the lips of their gap- 15 ing wounds, to accelerate their dissolution, and while their blood was issuing, presented their ghastly eyes to Heaven, breathing their last and fervent prayer, that the dry earth might not be suffered to drink their blood, but that it might rise up to the throne of God, and rouse the 20 eternal Providence to avenge the wrongs of their coun- try; what motive, could have such influence in their bo- som? what motive! — That which nature, the common parent, plants in the bosom of man, and which, tb< ^gh it ma}^ be less active in the Indian than in the Englishman, 25 is still congenial with, and makes part of his being; — thai feeling which tells him, that man was never made to be the property of man ; but that, when through pride and insolence of power, one human creature dares to ty- rannize over another, it is a power usurped, and resist- 30 ance is a duty ; — that feeling which tells him, that all power is delegated for the good, not for the injury of the people, and that when it is converted from the original purpose^ the compact is broken, and the right is to be re- sumed ; — that principle which, tells him, that resistance 35 to power usurped is not merely a duty which he owes to himself and to his neighbour, but a duty which he owes to his God, in asserting and maintaining the rank which he gave him in the creation ! to tliLt common God, who, where he gives the form, of man, whatever may be the Ex. 117.] EXERCISES — PART II. 281 40 complexion, gives also ihe feelings and the rights of man, — that principle, \a hich neither the rudeness of ig- norance can stifle, nor the enervation of refinement ex- tinguish ! — that principle, which makes it base for a man to suffer when he ought to act, which tending to preserve 45 to the species the original designations of Providence, spurns at the arrogant distinctions of man, and vindicates the independent quality of his race The Majesty of Justice, in the eyes of Mr. Hastings, is a being of terrific horror — a dreadful idol, placed in 50 the gloom of graves, accessible only to cringing suppli- cation, and which must be approached with offerings, and worshipped by sacrifice. The Majesty of Mr. Hast- ings is a being, whose decrees are written with blood, and whose oracles are at once secure and terrible. From 55 such an idol I turn mine eves with horror — I turn them here to this dignified and high tribunal, where the Maj- esty of Justice really sits enthroned. Here I perceive the Majesty of Justice in her proper robes of truth and mercy — chaste and simple — accessible and patient — aw- 60 ful wi'd'iout severity, — inquisitive, without meanness. I see her enthroned and sitting in judgment on a great and momentous cause, in which the happiness of mil- lions is involved. — Pardon me, my lords, if I presume to say, that in the decision of this great cause, you are 65 to be envied, as well as venerated. You possess the highest distinction of the human character; for when you render your ultimate voice on this cause, illustrating the dignity of the ancestors from whom yon spring — jus- tifying the solemn asseveration which you make — -vindi- ?0 eating the people of whom you are a part — and manifest- ing the intelligence of the times in which you live — you will do such an act of mercy, and blessing to man, as no men but yourselves are able to grant." On the conclusion of Mr. Sheridan's speech, the whole 75 assembly, members, peers, and strangers, involuntarily joined in a tumult of applause, and adopted a mode of expressing their approbation, new and irregular in that house, by loudly and repeatedly clapping their hands. A motion was immediately made and carried for an ad- 80 journment, that the members, who were in a state of de- lirious insensibility, from the talismanic influence of such powerful eloquence, might have time to collect theii 24* 282 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 117, 1 1 8. scattered senses for the exercise of a sober judgment. This motion was made by Mr. Pitt, who declared that 85 this speech "surpassed all the eloquence of ancient and modern times, and possesses every thing that genius or art could furnish, to agitate and control the human mind." 11 He has this day," said Mr. Burke, "surprised the thousands who hung with rapture on his accents, by such 00 an array of talents, such an exhibition of capacity, such a display of powers, as are unparalleled in the annals of oratory ! a display that reflects the highest, honour upon himself — lustre upon letters — renown upon parliament — glory upon the country. Of all species of rhetoric, of 95 every kind of eloquence that has been witnessed or re- corded, either in ancient or modern times : whatever the acuteness of the bar, the dignity of the senate, the solidity of the judgment seat, and the sacred morality of the pulpit, have hitherto furnished, nothing has sur- 100 passed, nothing has equalled, what we have this day heard in Westminster-hail. No holy seer of religion, no sage, no statesman, no orator, no man of any literary description whatever, has come up, in the one instance, to the pure sentiments of morality; or, in the other, to 105 that variety of knowledge, force of imagination, propriety and vivacity of allusion, beauty and elegance of diction, strength and copiousness of style, pathos and sublimity of conception, to Which we have this day listened with ardour and admiration. From poetry up to eloquence, 110 there is not a species of composition of which a complete and perfect specimen might not from that single speech be culled and collected." Exercise 118. Spirit of the American Revolution, — Josiah GIuincy, Jr. Be not deceived, my countrymen. Believe not these venal hirelings, when they would cajole you by their sub- tilties into submission, or frighten you by their vapour- ings into compliance. When they strive to flatter you 5 by the terms "moderation and prudence," tell them that calmness and deliberation are to guide the judge- ment; courage and intrepidity command the action. Whsn they endeavour to make us "perceive our inabii- Ex. 11S.J EXERCISES. PART II. 28b ityto oppose our mother country," let us boldly answer; 10 — In defence of our civil and religious rights, we da"3 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 U will live and die enthusiasts. Blandishments will not fascinate us, nor \ HI threats of a V halter " intimidate. For, under God, we are de- termined, that wheresoever, whensoever, or howsoever we shall be called to make our exit, we will die freemen. 20 Well do we know that all the regalia of this world can- not dignify the death of a villain, nor diminish the igno- miny, with which a slave shall quit existence. Neither can it taint the unblemished honour of a son of freedom, though he should make his departure on the already pre- 25 pared gibbet, or be dragged to the newly-erected scaffold for execution. With the plaudits of his country, and what is more, the plaudits of his conscience, he will go off the stage. The history of his life his children shall venerate. The virtues of their sire shall excite their 30 emulation. Who has the front to ask, Wherefore do you com- plain ? Who dares assert, that every thing worth living for is not lost, when a nation is enslaved ? Are not pen- sioners, stipendiaries, and salary-men, unknown before! 35 hourly multiplying upon us, to riot in the spoils ofmisei* able America ? Does not every eastern gale waft us some new insect, even of that devouring kind, which eat up every green thing ? Is not the bread taken out of the children's mouths and given unto the dogs ? Are notour 40 estates given to corrupt sycophants, without a design, cr even a pretence, of soliciting our assent ; and our lives put into the hands of those whose tender mercies are cruelties ? Has not an authority in a distant land, in the most public manner, proclaimed a right of disposing of 45 the all of Americans? In short, what have we to lose? What have we to fear? Are not our distresses mo^e than we can bear? And, to finish all, are not our cities, in a time of profound peace, filled with standing armies, to preclude from us that last solace of the wretched — 10 50 open their mouths in complaint, and send forth their cries in bitterness of heart ? 284 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 118, 119 But is there no ray of hope ? Is not Great Britain in- habited by the children of those renowned barons, who waded through seas of crimson gore to establish their 55 liberty ? and will they not allow us, their fellow men, to enjoy that freedom which we claim from nature, which is confirmed by our constitution, and which they pretend so highly to value'? Were a tyrant to conquer us, the chains of slavery, when opposition should become use- 50 less, might be supportable; but to be shackled by Eng- lishmen, — by our equals, — is not to be borne. By the sweat of our brow we earn the little we possess; from mature we derive the common rights of man ; and by charter we claim the liberties of Britons. Shall we, dare 65 we, pusillanimously surrender our birthright? Is the obligation to our fathers discharged ? Is the debt we owe posterity paid? Answer me, thou coward, who hidest thyself in the hour of trial ! If there is no reward in this life, no prize of glory in the next, capable of ani- 70 mating thy dastard soul, think and tremble, thou mis- creant ! at the whips and stripes thy master shall lash thee with, on earth, — and the flames and scorpions thy second master shall torment thee with hereafter ! Oh, my countrymen ! what will our children say, 75 when they read the history of these times, should they find that we tamely gave away, without one noble strug- gle, the most invaluable of earthly blessings! As they drag the galling chain, will they not execrate us ? If we have any respect for things sacred, any regard to the 80 dearest treasure on earth ; if we have one tender senti- ment for posterity ; if we would not be despised by the whole world ; — lei us, in the most open, solemn manner, and with determined fortitude, swear — We will die, if we cannot live freemen. 85 While w r e have equity, justice, and God on our side, tyranny, spiritual or temporal, shall never ride trium- phant in a land inhabited by Englishmen. Exercise 119. America. — Phillips. I appeal to History ! Tell me, thou reverend chroni- cler of the grave, can all the illusions of ambition real- ized, can all the wealth of a universal commerce, can all Ex. i VJ] EXERCISES. FART II. 285 the achievements of successful heroism, or all the estab- 5 lishments of this world's wisdom, secure to empire the permanency of its possessions? Alasi Troy thouo-ht so once; yet the land of Priam lives only in song! Thebes thought so once; yet her hundred gates have crumbled, and her very tombs are but as the dust they i(j were vainly intended to commemorate! So thought Palmyra — where is she? So thought the countries of Demosthenes and the Spartan ; yet Leonidas is tram- pled by the timid slave, and Athens insulted by the ser- vile, mindless, and enervate Ottoman! In his hurried 15 march, Time has but looked at their imagined immor- tality ; and all its vanities, from the palace to the tomb, have, with their ruins, erased the very impression of his footsteps ! The days of their glory are as if they had never been : and the island, that was then a speck, rude 20 and neglected in the barren ocean, now rivals the ubiquity of their commerce, the glory of their arms, the fame of "heir philosophy, the eloquence of their senate, and the inspiration of their bards ! Who shall say, then, contemplating the past, that England, proud and potent 25 as she appears, may not, one day, be what Athens is, and the young America yet soar to be what Athens was ! Who shall say, that, when the European column shall have mouldered, and the night of barbarism ob- scured its very ruins, that mighty continent may not 30 emerge from the horizon, to rule, for its time, sovereign of the ascendant! * * # * Sir, it matters very hxii'e what immediate spot may have been the birthplace of such a man as Washing- ton. No people can claim, no country can appropriate 35 him. The boon of Providence to the human race, his fame is eternity, and his residence creation. Though it was the defeat of our arms, and the disgrace of our policy, I almost bless the convulsion in which he had his origin. If the heavens thundered, and the earth 40 rocked, yet, when the storm had passed, how pure was the climate that it cleared! how bright, in the brow of the firmament, was the planet which it revealed to us ! In the production of Washington, it does really appear as if Nature was endeavouring to improve upon herself, 45 and that all the virtues of the ancient world were but so many studies preparatory to the patriot of the new. In £86 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 119, 120. dividual instances, no doubt, there were, splendid exem- plifications, of some singular qualification : Caesar was merciful, Scipio was continent, Hannibal was patient; '">0 but it was reserved for Washington to blend them all in one, and, like the lovely masterpiece of the Grecian artist, to exhibit, in one glow of associated beauty, the pride of every model, and the perfection of every mas- ter. As a general, he marshalled the peasant into a C5 veteran, and supplied by discipline the absence of expe- rience; as a statesman he enlarged the policy of the cabinet into the most comprehensive system of general advantage ; and such was the wisdom of his views, and the philosophy of his counsels, that, to the soldier and 60 the statesman, he almost added the character of the sage! A conqueror, he w r as untainted with the crime of blood ; a revolutionist, he w r as free from any stain of treason ; for aggression commenced the contest, and his country called him to the command. Liberty un- do sheathed his sw r ord, necessity stained, victory returned it. If he had paused here, history might have doubted what station to assign him ; whether at the head of her citizens, or her soldiers, her heroes, or her patriots. But the last glorious act crowns his career, and banishes all 70 hesitation. Who, like Washington, after having eman- cipated a hemisphere, resigned its crown, and preferred the retirement of domestic life to the adoration of a land he might be almost said to have created ! Happy, proud America ! The lightnings of heaven 75 yielded to your philosophy ! The temptations of earth could not seduce your patriotism! Exercise 120. Patriotism of 1775. — Patrick Henry. Mr. Henry rose with a majesty unusual to him in an exordium, and with all that self-possession by which he was so invariably distinguished. " No man," he said, "thought more highly than he did of .he patriotism, as 5 well as abilities, of the very worthy gentleman who had just addressed the house. But different men often saw the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, he hoped it w r ould not be thought disrespectful to those gen lS*r. 120.] EXERCISES.— PART II. 287 tlemen, if, e Pertaining as he did, opinions of a character 1) very opposite to theirs, h? should speak forth his senti- ments freely, and withoi.* reserve. This was no L ne for ceremony. The question before the house was one of awful moment to this country." He proceeded thus: " Mr. President — It is natural for man to indulge 15 in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth; and listen to the song of that syren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of- 20 those, who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth ; to know the worst, and to provide for it. 25 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 p e ast. And, judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the con- duct of the British ministry, for the last ten years, to 30 justify those hopes with which gentlemen have t^en 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 35 kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations, which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, 40 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 gentleman, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to sub- 45 mission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible mo- tive for it ? Has Great Britain eny enemy, in this quar- ter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us : they can be meant for no other. They 50 are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains, which the British ministry have been so long forging. 283 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 120. And what have we to oppose to them ? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we any thing new to offer upon the 55 subject? No;hing. 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 hurdle supplica- tion ? What terms sk 11 we find, which have not been, alreauy exhausted ? Let us not, I beseem you, sir, de- 60 ceive ourselves 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 remonstrat- ed ; we have supplicated ; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to 65 arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and parlia- ment. Our petitions have been slighted ; our remon- strances have produced additional violence and insult: our supplications have been disregarded ; ( c ) and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the 70 throne. In vain, after these tilings, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free ; if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges, for which we have been so long contending ; if we mean 75 not basely to abandon the noble struggle, in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledg- ed ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained — ( ) we must fight ! I repeat it* — Sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms 80 and to the God of hosts, is all that is left us. 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 85 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 lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us 90 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 coun- try as that which we possess, are invincible by any force 95 which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we Ex. 120, 121.] EXERCISES. PART II. 289 95 shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God, who presides over the destinies 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 vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. 100 If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery ! Our chains are forged. Their clanking maybe heard on the plains of Boston! ( ) The war is inevitable — and let it come ! — I repeat it, sir, let it 105 come ! It is 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 ' 110 to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! Our breth- ren are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle ! What is it that gentlemen wish ? what would they have % Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price.of chains and slavery? ( Q ) Forbid it, Almighty 1 15 God. — I know not what course others may take, but, as for me, give me liberty, or give me death /" He took his seat. No murmur of applause was heard. The effect was too deep. After the trance of a moment, several members started from their seats. The cry, " to 120 arms," seemed to quiver on every lip, and gleam from every eye! Richard H. Lee arose and supported Mr. Henry, with his usual spirit and elegance. But his melody was lost amidst the agitations of that ocean, which the master spirit of the storm had lifted up on high, 125 That supernatural voice still sounded in their ears and shivered along their arteries. They heard, in every pause, the cry of liberty or death. They became impa tient of speech — their souls were on fire for action. Exercise 121. The discontented pendulum. — Jane Taylor. An old clock that had stood for fifty years in a far- mer's kitchen, without giving its owner any cause oi complaint, early one summer's morning, before the family was stirring, suddenly stopped. Upon this, the dml- 25 290 EXERCISES/ PART II. [Ex. 121. 5 plate (if we may credit the fable,) changed countenance with alarm ; the hands made a vain effort to continue their course; the wheels remained motionless with sur- prise ; the weights hung speechless ; each member felt disposed to lay the blame on the others. At length the 10 dial instituted a formal inquiry as to the cause of the stagnation, when hands, wheels, weights, with one voice, } rotested their innocence. But now a faint tick was heard below from the pen- dulum, who thus spoke : — " I confess myself to be the 15 sole cause of the stoppage! and I am willing, for the general satisfaction to assign say reasons. The truth is, that I am tired of ticking." Upon hearing this, the old clock became so enraged, that it was on the very point of striking. 20 "Lazy wire!" exclaimed the dial plate, holding up its hands. " Very good!" replied the pendulum, u it is vastly easy for you, Mistress Dial, who have always, as every body knows, set yourself up above me, — it is vastly easy for you, 1 say, to accuse other people of laziness ! 25 You, who have had nothing to do all the days of your life, but to stare people in the face, and to amuse yourseL with watching all that goes on in the kitchen ! Think I beseech you, how you would like to be shut up for life in this dark closet, and to wag backwards and forwards, 30 year after year, as I do." "As to that," said the dial, "is there not a window in your house, on purpose for you to look through ?" — " For all that," resumed the pendulum, " it is very dark here; and, although there is a window, I dare not stop, even 35 for an instant, to look out at it. Besides, I am really tired of my way of life ; and if you wish, I'll tell you how I took this disgust at my employment. I happened this morning to be calculating how many times I should have to tick in the course of only the next twenty-four hours ; 40 perhaps some of you, above there, can give me the exact sum." The minute hand, being quick at figures, presently re- plied, "Eighty-six thousand four hundred times." "Ex- actly so," replied the pendulum. " Well, I appeal to 45 you all, if the very thought of this was not enough to fatigue one; and when I began to multiply the strokes of one day, by those of months and years, really it is no Ex. 121.] EXERCISES. PART II. 291 wonder if I felt discouraged at the prospect ; so after a great deal of reasoning and hesitation, thinks I to myself, 50 I'll stop.' 5 The dial could scarcely keep its countenance during this harangue ; hut resuming its gravity, thus replied : " Dear Mr. Pendulum, I am really astonished that such a useful, industrious person as yourself, should have heen 55 overcome by this sudden action. It is true, you have done a great deal of work in your time ; so have we all, and are likely to do ; which although it may fatigue us to think of, the question is, whether it will fatigue us to do. Would you now do me the favour to give about half a 60 dozen strokes to illustrate my argument ?" The pendulum complied, and ticked six times in its usual pace. " Now," resumed the dial, " may I be al- lowed to inquire, if that exertion was at all fatiguing or disagreeable to you ?" " Not in the least," replied the 65 pendulum, " it is not of six strokes that I complain, nor of sixty, but of millions." " Very good," replied the dial ; u but recollect that though you may think of a million strokes in an instant, you are required to execute but one ; and that, however often you may hereafter have 70 to swing, a moment will always be given you to swing in." " That consideration staggers me, I confess," said the pendulum. " Then I hope," resumed the dial-plate, " we shall all immediately return to our duty ; for the maids will lie in bed if we stand idling thus." 75 Upon this the w T eights, who had never been accused of light conduct, used all their influence in urging him to proceed ; when, as with one consent, the wheels began to turn, the hands began to move, the pendulum began to swing, and to its credit, ticked as loud as ever ; while 80 a red beam of the rising sun that streamed through a hole in the kitchen, shining full upon the dial-plate, it brightened up, as if nothing had been the matter. When the farmer came down to breakfast that morn- ing, upon looking at the clock, he declared that his 85 watch had gained half an hour in the night. MORAL. A celebrated modern writer says, " Take care of the minutes, and the hours will take care of themselves." 292 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 121, 122. Tins is an admirable remark, and might be very season- ably recollected when we begin to be " weary in well- 90 doing," from the thought of having much to do. The present moment is all w T e have to do with, in any sense : the past is irrecoverable, the future is uncertain; nor is it fair to burden one moment with the weight of the next Sufficient unto the moment is the trouble thereof. If we 95 had to walk a hundred miles, we should still have to set but one step at a time, and this process continued, would infallibly bring us to our journey's end. Fatigue gene- rally begins, and is ahvays increased, by calculating in a minute the exertion of hours. 100 Thus, in looking forward to future life, let us recol- lect that we have not to sustain all its toil, to endure all its sufferings, or encounter all its crosses at once. One moment comes laden with its own Utile burdens, then flies, and is succeeded by another no heavier than the last: — - 105 if one could be borne, so can another and another. It seems easier to do right to-morrow than to-day, merely because we forget that when to-morrow comes, then will be now. Thus life passes with many, in reso- lutions for the future, which the present never fulfils. 110 It }s not thus with those, who, "by patient continue ance in well-doing, seek for, glory, honour, and immor- tality." Day by day, minute by minute, they execute the appointed task, to which the requisite measure of time and strength is proportioned ; and thus, having worked 115 while it was called day, they at length rest from their labours, and their works " follow them." Let us then, "whatever our hands find to do, do it with all our might, recollecting that now is the proper and accepted time." Exercise 122. Valedictory Hymn. — N. Adams. Sung by the Senior Class, at the close of the Anniversary Exercises in the Theological Seminary, Andover, Sept. 1829. 1 Beautiful upon the mountains Are the messengers of peace, Publishing the news of pardon, Through a Saviour's righteousness ; Ex. 122, 123!] exercises. — part ii. 293 Joyful tidings Of a Saviour's righteousness; 2 Hark ! the voice of Jesus, calling, " Heralds of my Cross, arise ! Go and publish news of pardon ; See ! a world in ruin lies. Preach salvation, 'Till I call you to the skies." 3 Jesus, we obey thy summons, See thy servants waiting stand ; When our song of praise is ended, We will go at thy command. Great Redeemer ! Guide us by thine own right hand. 4 Scenes of love and sacred friendship, We will bid you all farewell. O'er the earth's wide face we wander, News of Jesus' love to tell. We for ever Now mast part, and say, Farewell. 5 Often have we joined these voices, In our songs of social praise, And around our altar bending, Prayer at morn and evening rais'd. We shall never Here again unite in praise. 6 Brethren, may we meet together On the mount of God above ; Then our rapturous hosannas Will be full of Jesus' love. Saviour, bring us Safely to thy home above. Exercise 123. Scene from Pizarro....Pizarro and Gomez. — Kotzebue Piz. How now, Gomez, what bringest thou? Gbm. On yonder hill, among the palm trees, we have sur- prised an old Peruvian. Escape by flight he could not, aiKl we seized him unresisting. 25* 294 EXERCISES.- — PART II. [Ex. 123. Piz. Drag him before us. [Gomez leads in Orozembo.] What art thou, stranger? Oro. First tell me who is the captain of this band of rob- bers. Piz. Audacious! This insolence has sealed thy doom. Die thou shalt, gray headed ruffian. But first confess what thou knowest. Oro. I know that which thou hast just assured me o£ that I shall die. Piz. Less audacity might have preserved thy life. Oro. My life is as a withered tree, not worth preserving. Piz. Hear me, old man/ Even now we march against the Peruvian army. We know there is a secret path that leads to your strong hold among the rocks. Guide us to that, and name thy reward. If wealth be thy wish Oro. Ha, ha, ha! Piz. Dost thou despise my offer ? Oro. Yes, thee and thy offer ! Wealth ! I have the wealth of two gallant sons. I have stored in heaven the riches which repay good actions here ! and still my chiefest treasure do I wear about me. Piz. What is that % Inform me. Oro. I will, for thou canst never tear it from me. An unsullied conscience. Piz. I believe there is no other Peruvian who dares speak as thou dost. Oro. Would I could believe there is no other Spaniard who dares act as thou dost. Gom. Obdurate Pagan ! how numerous is your army ? Oro. Count the leaves of the forest. Gom. Which is the weakest part of your camp ? Oro. It is fortified on all sides by justice. ' Gom. Where have you concealed your wives ana chil- dren? Oro. In the hearts of their husbands and fathers. Piz. Knowest thou Alonzo? Oro. Know him ! Alonzo ! Our nation's benefactor, the guardian angel of Peru ! Piz. By what has he merited that title ? Oro. By not resembling thee. Piz. Who is this Rolla, joined with Alonzo in com- mand? Oro. I will answer that, for I love to speak the hero's Ex. 123.J EXERCISES. PART II. 295 name. Rolla, the kinsman of the king-, is the idol of our army. In war a tiger, in peace a lamb. Cora was once betrothed to him, but finding she preferred Alonzo, he re- signed his claim for Cora's happiness. Piz. Romantic savage ! I shall meet this Rolla soon. Oro. Thou hadst better not! the terrors of his noble eye would strike thee dead. Gom. Silence, or tremble ! Oro. Beardless robber! I never yet have learned to tremble before man — Why before thee, thou less than man ! Gom. Another word, audacious heathen, and I strike 1 Oro. Strike, Christian! then boast among thy fellows, " I too, have murdered a Peruvian.' 7 Second Scene. Sentinel, Rolla, omoI Alonzo. — Kotzebue. [Enter Rolla disguised as a monk.] Rolla. Inform me, friend, is Alonzo, the Peruvian, con- fined in this dungeon'? Sent. He is. Rolla. I must speak with him. Sent. You must not. Rolla. He is my friend. Sent. Not if he were your brother. Rolla. What is to be his fate ? Sent. He dies at sunrise. Rolla. Ha ! then I am come in time — Sent. lust to witness his death. Rolla. [Advancing toivards the door.] Soldier — I must speak with him. Sent. [Pushing him back with his gun.] Back ! Back ! •»t is impossible. Rolla. I do entreat you but for one moment. Sent. You entreat in vain— my orders are most strict. Rolla. Look on this wedge of massy gold ! Look on these precious gems. In thy land they will be wealth for thee and thine, beyond thy hope or wish. Take them, they are thine, let me but pass one moment with Alonzo. Sent Away! Wouldst thou corrupt me? Me, an old Castilian! 1 know my duty better. Rolla. Soldier ! hast thou a wife ? Sent. I have. 296 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 123. Rolla. Hast thou children ? Sent. Four, honest, lovely boys. Rolla. Where didst thou leave them ? Sent. In my native village, in the very cot where I was born. Rolla. Dost thou love thy wife and children ? Sent. Do I love them ! God knows my heart, — I do. Rolla. Soldier! Imagine thou wert doomed to die a cruel death in a strange land — What would be thy last re- quest ? Sent. That some of my comrades should carry my dying blessing to my wife and children. Rolla. What if that comrade was at thy prison door, and should there be told, thy fellow soldier dies at sunrise, yet thou shalt not for a moment see him, nor shalt thou bear his dying blessing to his poor children, or his wretched wife — what wouldst thou think of him who thus could drive thy comrade from the door ? Sent. How? Rolla. Alonzo has a wife and child ; and I am come but to receive for her, and for her poor babe, the last blessing of my friend. Sent. Go in. [Exit Sentinel.] Rolla. [Calls.] Alonzo ! Alonzo ! [Enter Alonzo, speaking as he comes in.] Alon. How ! is my hour elapsed % Well, I am ready. Rolla. Alonzo, = — know me! Alon. Rolla ! O Rolla ! how didst thou pass the guard ? Rolla. There is not a moment to be lost in words. This disguise I tore from the dead body of a friar, as I passed our field of battle. It has gained me entrance to thy dungeon; now take it thou, and fly. Alon. And Rolla Rolla. Will remain here in thy place. Alon. And die for me ! No I Rather eternal tortures rack me. Rolla. I shall not die, Alonzo. It is thy life Pizarro seeks, not Rolla 1 s; and thy arm may soon deliver me from prison. Or, should it be otherwise, I am as a blighted tree in the desert ; nothing lives beneath my shelter. Thou art a husband and a father ; the being of a lovely wife and helpless infant depend upon thy life. Go ! go ! Alonzo, not to save thyself, but Cora, and thy child. Ex. 123, 124.] EXERCISES. PART II. 297 Alon. Urge me not thus, my friend — I am prepared to die in peace. Holla. To die in peace ! devoting her you have sworn to live for, to madness, misery, and death ! Alon. Merciful heavens ! Rolla. If thou art yet irresolute, Alonzo — now mark me well. Thou knowest that Rolla never pledged his word and shrunk from its fulfilment Know then, if thou art proudly obstinate, thou shalt have the desperate triumph of seeing Rolla perish by thy side. Alon. O Rolla! you distract me! Wear you the robe, and though dreadful the necessity, we will strike down the guard, and force our passage. Rolla. What, the soldier on duty here % Alon. Yes, else seeing two, the alarm will be instant death. Rolla. For my nation's safety, I would not harm him, That soldier, mark me, is a man ! All are not men that wear the human form. He refused my prayers, refused my gold, denying to admit — till his own feelings bribed him. 1 will not risk a hair of that man's head, to save my heart- strings from consuming fire. But haste ! A moment's fur- ther pause and all is lost. Alon, Rolla, 1 fear thy friendship drives me from honour and from right. Rolla. Did Rolla ever counsel dishonour to his friend? [Throwing the friar's garment over his shoulders.] There! conceal thy face — Now God be with thee. Exercise 124. God. — Translated from a Russian Ode by Derzhanir. 1 O Thou Eternal One! whose presence bright, All space doth occupy. — All motion guide ; Unchanged through time's all devastating flight, Thou only God ! There is no God beside. Being above all beings ! Mighty One ! Whom none can comprehend, and none explore, Who fill' st existence with thyself alone ; Embracing all — supporting — ruling o'er — Being whom we call God — and know no more! 298 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 124. 2 A million torches lighted by thy hand, Wander unwearied through the blue abyss ; They own thy power, accomplish thy command, All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss : What shall we call them ? Piles of crystal light ? A glorious company of golden streams? Lamps of celestial ether, burning bright? Suds lighting systems with their joyous beams? But thou to these art as the noon to night. 3 Yes ! as a drop of water in the sea, All this magnificence is lost in thee : — What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee ? And what am i, then? Heaven's unnumbered host, Though multiplied by myriads, and arrayed In all the glory of sublimest thought, . Is but an atom in the balance weighed Against thy greatness — is a cipher brought Against infinity ! what am J then ? Nought ! 4 Nought? — But the effluence of thy light divine Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom too ; Yes, in my spirit doth thy spirit shine, As shines the sun-beam in a drop of dew. Nought? — But I live, and on hope's pinions fly, Eager towards thy presence ; for in thee I live, and breathe, and dwell ; aspiring high, Even to the throne of thy Divinity. I am, O God, and surely thou must be ! 5 Thou art ! directing, guiding, all. Thou art ! Direct my understanding then to thee ; Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart ; Though but an atom 'midst immensity, Still I am something fashioned by thy hand! I hold a middle rank, 'twixt heaven and earth, On the last verge of being stand, Close to the realm where angels have their birth Just on the boundary of the spirit land ! ex. 125.j exercises. part ii. 299 Exercise 125. The Dead Sea. — Croly. 1 The wind blows chill across those gloomy waves ; — Oh ! how unlike the green and dancing main I The surge is foul, as if it rolled o'er graves ; Stranger, here lie the cities of the plain. 2 Yes, on that plain, by wild waves covered now, Rose palace once, and sparkling pinnacle ; On pomp and spectacle beamed morning's glow, On pomp and festival the twilight fell. - 3 Lovely and splendid all, — but Sodom's soul Was stained with blood, and pride, and perjury; Long warned, long spared, till her whole heart was foul, And fiery vengeance on its clouds came nigh. 4 And still she mocked, and danced, and, taunting spoke Her sportive blasphemies against the Throne ; — It came ! — the thunder on her slumber broke : — God spake the word of wrath ! — Her dream was done. 5 Yet, in her final night, amid her stood Immortal messengers ; and pausing Heaven, Pleaded with man, but she was quite imbued, Her last hour waned, she scorned to be forgiven! 6 'Twas done ! — Down pour'd at one*/' he sulph'rous show'r, Down stooped, in flame, the heav n's red canopy. Oh ! for the arm of God, in that fier e hour ! — 'T was vain, nor help of God or m m was nigh. 7 They rush, they bound, they howl, tl emen of sin ; — Still stooped the cloud, still burst ti e thicker blaze ; The earthquake heaved ! — Then sani the hideous din ! Yon wave of darkness o'er their as ies strays. 8 Paris ! thy soul is deeper dyed with Jood, And long, and blasphemous, has be ?n thy day; And. P^ris ! it were well for thee th .t flood, Or fire, could cleanse thy damning stains away. 300 EXERCISES. PART II. [Ex. 126 Exercise 126. Nevj Missionary Hymn. S. F. SMITH. Theological Student, Andover. 1 Yes, my native land, I love thee, All thy scenes I love them well, Friends, connexions, happy country ! Can I bid you all farewell 1 Can I leave you — Far in heathen lands to dwell ? 2 Home! thy joys are passing lovely ; Joys no stranger-heart can tell ! Happy home ! indeed I love thee ! Can I — can I say — Farewell ? Can I leave thee — Far in heathen lands to dwell ? 3 Scenes of sacred peace and pleasure, Holy days and Sabbath bell, Richest, brightest, sweetest treasure ! Can I say a last farewell ? Can I leave you — Far in heathen lands to dwell ? 4 Yes ! I hasten from you gladly, Fiom the scenes I loved so well! Far away, ye billows, bear me ; Lovely native land, farewell ! Pleased I leave thee — Far in heathen lands to dwell. 5 In the deserts let me labour, On the mountains let me tell, How he died — the blessed Saviour — To redeem a world from hell ! Let. me hasten, Far in heathen lands to dwell. 6 Bear me on, thou restless ocean ; Let the winds the canvass swell — • Heaves my heart with warm emotion, While I go far hence to dwell. Glad 1 bid thee, Native land ! — Farewell — Farewell \ APPENDIX. The reader, that he may understand the design of this Appendix, is rsquested to turn back to page 52, and review with care all the remarks that are made under the head of Quantity. Few persons are aware to what extent the power of any tolerable voice may be increased, by the habit of a slow, clear, distinct enunciation. To acquire this habit, the pupil must accustom himself, by efforts c ften repeated, to fill, and swell, and prolong the open vowels. This may be done by uttering the simple elementary sounds, a. e, &c. ? with great stress. But as vocal sounds are intended to con/ s y thoughts, and these single elements signify nothing, of themselves, the pvpa is reluctant to exert his voice upon them, with sufficient strength to answei the purpose. The different sounds of a, as heard in fate , far, war, he can utter, but te it do with his voice at full stretch is unnatural ; it seems to him more like barking, or bleating, than like elocution. "Whereas, let the sound to be made, be part of a word, and that word part of a sent/mce, — meaning something that ought to be uttered in a loud, full note, And the difficulty is surmounted with comparative ease. To accomplish this, is the purpose of the following exau? pies. In pronouncing them, the reader will remember that they are gen- erally taken from the language of military command; and/rom other cases in which the persons addressed are supposed to be a i some dis- tance from the speaker. The words printed in Italic, contain the vowel sounds on which the stress and quantity are to be laid. Imagine yourself to be speaking these words to those who are five or ten rods from you, and you will unavoidably acquire the habit of dwelling on the vowel with a slow, strong note. The sounds most favourable to the object of this exercise are those of in tube in turn i in noise a in fate a in hark a in fall a or ai in fare or air e in me -in men -in rise -m go -in move -in for -in loud The selections are arranged promiscuously, several of the vowel rounds sometimes occurring in the same example 16 302 APPENDIX, EXAMPLES. 1. Then take defiance, death, and mortal war. 2. Haste I — to his ear the glad report convey, 3. Stretch to the race ! — Away ! — Away! 4 Let what I will, be fate. 5. O Sdlyman ! — regardless chief! — Awake. 6. Come, mighty Monarch, haste ! — the fortress gain. 7. Wherefore, O Warriors ! make your promise vain ? 8. Conquest aivaits you. Seize the glorious prize. 9. " Haste! Let us storm the gates, 11 he said and flew. 10. The cry was — " Tidings ! from the host,— " Of weight. — A messenger comes post." 11. Arm, valiant chief! — F 'or fight prepare. 12. " To arms! — To arms!" — A thousand voices cried. 13. "Forbear! The field is mine" — he cries. 14. " Who dares to fly from yonder swords" — he cries, " Who dares to tremble, by this weapon dies. 11 15. Stand — Bayard ! — Stand ! — the steed obeyed. 16. To arms ! The foemen storm the wall. 17. War! War! — aloud with general voice they cry. 18. Haste ! Pass the seas. Thy flying sails employ; Fly hence ! Begone ! 19. *Tis death I seek ; but ere I yield to fate, I trust to crush thee with my falling weight. 20. Him by his arms Rambaldo knows, and cries, u What seek' st thou here, or whither wouldst thou bend?" 21. O cruel Tancred ! — cease ! — at last relent. 22. " Speed Malise ! speed /" — he loudly cried, " The mustering place is Lanrick mead ; Speed forth the signal, Norman ! Speed /" 23 Peace ! Peace ! — To other than to me, Thy words were evil augury. APPENDIX. 303 24. Warriors attend ! survey this bloody sword. 25. Wo to the traitor ! — wo ! 26. On Bertram, then, he laid his hand, " Should every fiend to whom thou'rt sold Rise in thine aid, I keep mine hold. Arouse there ! Ho ! — take spear and sword ; Attack the murderer of your lord." 27. " Ye Warriors brave! — attend my words," he said. 28. With monarch's voice, " Go ! — and repent" he cried. 29. Rise ! Rise ! — ye Citizens, your gates defend ; Behold the foe at hand. 30. " Return ye Warriors I" thus aloud he cried. 31. Fly Argillan ! Behold the morning mgh.. 32. " What bring 7 st thou here . ? " — she cried. "Lo war and death I bring," the chief replied. 33. Oh ! burst the bridge, and me alone expose. 34. Still, still he breathes ; Our Tancred still survives. 35. Hence! home, you idle creatures ! — get you home. You blocks, — you stones, — you worse than senseless things. 36. Wo to the wretch who fails to rear, At this dread sign, his ready spear. 37. u Up ! comrades up ! — in Rokeby's halls, Ne'or be it said our courage falls." 38. Back! on your lives, ye menial pack. 39. Boldly she spake, " Soldiers attend ! My father was the soldier's friend." 40. " Revenge ! — Revenge /" — the Savons cried. 41 Malcolm ! — come forth ! — and forth he came. 42. " On ! On / " — was still his stern exclaim, " Confront the battery's jaws of flame ! Rush on the level gun ! My steel-clad Cuirassiers ! — advance ! Each Hulan, forward /—with his lance ! 304 APPENDIX. My Guard ! — my chosen, — charge for France, France, and Napdleon" 43. " Soldiers ! — stand firm, exclaimed the British chief, England shall tell the fight." 44. The combat deepens, " On ye brave ! Who rush to glory or the grave." 45. Burst the storm on Priccis' walls ! Rise ! or Greece forever falls. 46. Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains Rise ! Fellow men ! — our country yet remains. 47. Where was thine arm, O vengeance ? and thy rod v That smote the foes of Zion and of God 1 48. Angels! and ministers of Grace ! defend us ; Save me, — and hover o'er me with your wings, Ye heavenly Guards ! 49. " And do you now put on your best attire ? And do you now cull out a 1 oliday ? And do yon now strew jldwer? in his way, That comes in .riumph over Pompey's blood ? Begone /" 50. Avauntl Fly thither whrr,ce thou fled'st; if from this hour, Within these hallowed limits thou appear, Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chained. 51. And I heard an angel, flying through the midst of hea- ven, saying with a loud voice •' Wo, wo, wo, to the inhabitants of the earth." 52. But God said unto him, " Thou fool ! — this night thy soul shall be required of thee." 53. And he cried and said, " Father Abraham ! Have mer- cy upon me." O 1 i - .V *. * \ %, <<- N ^ A«V ,y b' *9 * ^r*, ,Oo f V \/ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Nov. 2007 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111 1 .*- ' » * y * .k * o N -c ^ ,5 ^ ,0 o ^ *Je^^