Glass Book £j / ELOCUTION MADE EASY: 293 3acf^_. Rules crao Selection* for Declamation ano Ueaoiag, y : ;-V7.Z 5 ILLUSTRATIVE C i 3E 3 - ORE BY R. CLAGGETT, A.M. AMERICAN EX ATTTHOR OF THE AMERICAN EXPOSITOR. NEW YORK: . PAINE & BURGESS. N:. 62 JOHN STREET. TIM I Zrfr Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1845, by PAINE & BURGESS, In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern Dis- trict of New York. bo 1.0 S. W. BENEDICT, Stereotyper and Printer, 16 Spruce street, New York PREFACE. ■Speech is one of the highest attributes of man ; and in a free government its cultivation becomes an object of paramount importance to those who aspire to a career of extensive use- fulness, or honorable distinction. Every year in our country's history enhances this importance, and affords additional rea- sons in favor of preparing our youth to meet the emergencies of the present and coming times. Questions of vital interest to our religious, civil and social institutions, are agitated with fearful success by the advocates of error ; the demagogue, as well as the schoolmaster, "is abroad in the land," and the question at issue is, which shall triumph, — whether the school- room or the political conclave shall prevail, whether our free institutions shall be sustained by the conservative power o r the former, or be undermined by the selfish machinations of the latter. There is a growing demand for men, who know, and knowing dare maintain in public assemblies, with all the power of eloquence, the true interests of their country. To the School, to the Common, as well as the High-school, we must look for future men who are to advocate and sustain the purity of our public morals, the important interests of learning, and the noble fabric of our civil policy — under which, as a nation, we have thus far nourished. One of the chief glories of our country is the encouragement given to learning, and the general diffusion of knowledge. But half the education of our young men is lost by neglecting the study and practice of this branch, which gives to all the rest a tenfold value. Thousands of men, otherwise well educated, are often heard to lament their neglect of Elocution during their school-boy days, and their consequent inability to IV PREFACE. utter in public, those thoughts which they would gladly dis- seminate, and thereby confer a benefit on society. But parents, teachers, and the guardians of education, are beginning to realize not only the importance of Elocution, but the feasibility of giving it an important place among the branches of common education. Heretofore, although highly appreciated, it has been considered by many as beyond the aim or reach of the mass of our youth, and only to be studied by those whom fortune has enabled to attend our higher Seminaries of learning. The author of this Manual has long been convinced that the general neglect of so important and useful a branch of education may be attributed, in part, to the want of books adapted to the use of Common as well as High- schools. There are several excellent works on this subject whose authors, with rare exceptions, seem to have participated in the general opinion, that Elocution belongs only to the list of branches taught in Academical and Collegiate institutions. But it is now a settled point, with experienced teachers of Elocution, that it may be successfully taught in Common schools, both public and private ; and that an early and thorough training of the vocal organs is the surest, and, in most cases, the only means of securing excellence in reading or speaking. This Manual is offered to the public, with the belief, that it may promote the improvement of the young in the important branch of what it treats. The plan of the work may be more readily perceived by an inspection of its pages, than by a prefatory description. Every part, it is believed, is so plain and intelligible, that a cursory examination will enable any one to form a correct opinion of its general character. Obligations are cheerfully acknowledged to several foreign works, for some of the ideas incorporated in the work, and most of the figures illustrative of gesture. THE AUTHOR. ELOCUTION MADE EASY. CHAPTER I. FIRST LESSON. THE ORGANS OF SPEECH. The principal organs of speech are the throat, the palate, the roof of the mouth, the upper teeth, the tongue and the lips. FORMATION OF THE CONSONANTS. Note. — The formation of the vowels is omitted, as their sounds may be more readily acquired by imitation than description. The best method of showing the organic formation of the consonants will be to class them into such pairs as they natu- rally fall into, and then, by describing one, we shall nearly describe the other, by which means the labor will be lessened, and the nature of the consonants better perceived. The con- sonants that fall into pairs are the folio whig : p f t s sk tk k ch chair b v d z zh dh g j jail. P and B are formed by closing the lips till the breath is col- lected, and then letting it issue by forming the vowel e. F and V are formed by pressing the upper teeth upon the under lip, and sounding the vowel e before the -former and after the latter of these letters. T and D are formed by pressing the tip of the tongue to the gums of the upper teeth, and then separating them, by pro- nouncing the vowel e. S and Z are formed by placing the tongue in the same posi- tion as in T and D, but not so close to the gums, as to stop the breath : a space is left between the tongue and the palate for the breath to issue, which forms the hissing and buzzing sound of these letters. 1* 6 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. SH heard in mission, and zh in evasion, are formed in the same seat of sound as s and z ; but in the former, the tongue is drawn a little inwards, and at a somewhat greater distance from the palate, which occasions a fuller effusion of breath from the hollow of the mouth, than in the latter, which are formed nearer to the teeth. TH in think, and the same letters in that, are formed by pro- truding the tongue between the fore teeth, pressing it against the upper teeth, and at the same time endeavoring to sound the s or z ; the former letter to sound th in think, and the latter to sound th in that. K and G hard are formed by pressing the middle of the tongue to the roof of the mouth near the throat, and separating them a little smartly to form the first, and more gently to form the last of these letters. CH in chair, and Jin jail, are formed by pressing t to sh, and d to zh. 31 is formed by closing the lips, as in P and B, and letting the voice issue by the nose. N is formed by resting the tongue in the same position as in T or D, and breathing through the nose, with the mouth open. L is formed by nearly the same position of the organs as t and d, but more with the tip of the tongue, which is brought forward to the teeth, while the breath issues from the mouth. R is formed by placing the tongue nearly in the position of t, but at such a distance from the palate as suffers it to jar against it, when the breath is propelled from the throat to the mouth. NG in ring, sing, &c, is formed in the same seat of sound as hard g ; but while the middle of the tongue presses the roof of the mouth, as in G, the voice passes principally through the nose, as in N. Y consonant is formed by placing the organs in the position of e, and squeezing the tongue against the roof of the mouth, which produces ee, which is equivalent to initial y. W consonant is formed by placing the organs in the position of oo, described under u, and closing the lips a little more, in or- der to propel it upon the succeeding vowel.which it articulates. Note— Q followed by u is sounded like k followed by w. X is composed of the ttoauds of k and s. EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION. CHAPTER II. SECOND LESSON. KEY FOR THE SOUNDS OF THE VOWELS. 1234512 31 23 5 I Fate far fall fat wad me met her pine pin bird marine no 2 3 4 5 6 1 2 3 4 32 33 move nor not come book tube tub full use oil pound. EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION, HAVING THE SOUNDS OF THE SINGLE CONSONANTS AND THE VOWELS. Note. — Frequent repetition of the following exercises is strongly recommended. 1 2 3 32 33 B-A-le B-A-r B-A-ll B-A-t B-OI-1 B-OU-nd C-A-ne C-A-r C-A-ll C-A-n C-OI-n C-OU-nt D-A-te D-A-rt D-AW-n D-A-mp D-OI-t D-OU-bt F-A-le F-A-r F-A-U F-A-n F-OI-1 F-OU-nd G-A-me G-A-rb G-A-ll G-A-s — G-OU-t H-A-le H-A-rt H-A-ll H-A-t H-OW-1 J-A-ne J-A-r J-A-w J-A-mb J-OI-n - — — K is sounded like c hard as above. L-A-te L-A-rk L-AW-n L-A-mp L-OI-n L-OU-d THIRD LESSON. M-A-ke M-A-r M-A-ll M-A-p M-OI-st M-OU-nt N-A-me N-A-rd g-N-AW N-A-p N-OI-se N-OU-n P-A-le P-A-rt P-A-ll P-A-n P-OI-se P-OU-nd R-A-te wR-A-th R-A-W R-A-n R-OI-1 R-OU-t S-A-me pS-A-lm S-A-lt S-A-nd S-OI-1 S-OU-nd T-A-me T-A-r T-A-U T-A-n T-OT-1 T-OW-n V-A-le V-A-st V-AU-lt V-A-n V-OI-ce V-OU-ch W-A-ne W-A-ll W-A-x W-OU-nd Y-A-le Y-A-rd Y-AW-n FOURTH Y-A-m LESSON. i 2 1 2 B-EE-t B-E-ll M-EE-t M-E-n C-E-de C-E-nt N-EE-d N-E-t D-EE-m D-E-n P-EE-r P-E-st ELOCUTION MADE EASY. F-EE-1 F-E-ll QU-EE-n QU-E-11 G-EE-se G-E-t R-EE-1 R-E-nt S-EE-n S-E-t G-E-nus G-E-m V-EE-r V-E-st H-EE-d H-E-m W-E-al W-E-t J-EE-r J-E-t K-EE-1 K-E-n Y-Ea-st Y-E-u L-EE-k L-E-t L-E-ast L-E-st FIFTH LESSON. 12 3 1 2 B-I-nd B-I-t B-I-rd J-I-g D-I-ne D-I-m D-I-rk K-I-nd K-I-ll F-I-ne F-I-n F-I-rst L-I-ne L-I-st Gu-I-le G-I-m G-I-rt M-I-ne M-I-nt G-I-be G-I-ll K-I-rk N-I-ne N-I-p H-I-ve H-I-m P-I-ne P-I-n R-I-pe R-I-m S-I-te S-I-t S-I-r T-I-me T-I-ce V-I-ne V-I-le W-I-ne W-I-1L Z-I-nc SIXTH LESSON. B-O-lt B-OO-n B-O-rn B-6-nd B-O-mb B-OO-k C-O-ne C-OO-p C-O-rn C-O-t C-O-me C-OO-k D-O-me D-OO-m D-O-r D-O-t D-O-ve F-O-ld F-OO-d F-O-rm F-O-p F-OO-t G-O-ld G-OO-se G-O-rge G-O-ne G-OO-d H-O-pe H-O-O-p H-O-rn H-O-p H-O-ver H-OO-d j_0-ve J-O-t L-O-ne L-OO-m L-O-rd L-O-t L-O-ve L-OO-k M-O-le M-O-ve M-O-rn M-O-ss M-O-nth N-O-te N-OO-n N-O-r N-O-t N-OO-k P-O-le P-OO-1 P-O-p R-O-ll R-OO-m R-O-t R-OO-t S-O-le S-OO-the S-O-rt S-O-t S-O-n S-OO-n T-O-ll T^OO-th T-O-rt T-O-p T-O-n T-OO-k V-O-te EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION. W-O-ve W-O-t Y-O-n LESSON. •\V_n_vti W-OO-1 Y-O-ke Y-O-vlr SEVENTH 1 B-U-d C-U-t D-U-n F-U-n G-U-n H-U-t L-U-mp M-U-st P-U-n S-U-n T-U-b EIGE B-U-llet B-U-; C-U- gle re F-U-ll F-U- ry H-U- ■e L-U-te M-U-se P-U-re S-U-re F-U^" v ^ P-u-ll S-Ui-te T-U-be [TH ] LESSON. CONSONANTS COMBINED. BL-ade BL-eed BL-ind i BL- ow BL-ue BR-ace BR-eeze - BR-ide BR- ogue BR-ew CL-aim CL-eave CL- ime CL- ose CL-ue CR-ate CR-eed CR- •ime CR- ow CR-ew DR-ain DR-eam DR -ive DR- ■ove DR-ew FL-ame FL-eet FL- ight FL- own FL-ew FR-ame FR-eeze FR- -ight FR- ■oze FR-uit GL-ade GL-eam GL-ide GL-obe GL-ue GR-ace GR-een GR-ind GR- -OW GR-ew PL-ate Pl-ea PL- ■ight de PI- ore PL-ume PR-aise PR-iest PR -ime PR- one PR-ime SC-ale SCH-eme Sk- ■y SC- ope SCR-ape SCR-eam SCR-ibe SCR-oll SCR-ew SL-ave SL-eeve SL -ime SL- ow SL-ew SM-ear SN-eer SP-eed SlVT i+<^ SM-ote SN-ow SP-ort SN-ail SP-ade OIVJ SN SP -ipe -ite SP-ume SPL-ay SPL-een SPL-ice SPR-ay STR-ay SPR-ite STR-ike STR-eet STR-ove STR-ew TR-ay TR-ee TR-y TR-ope TR-ue 10 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. H INTH LESSON, briB'D gaRB'D gaRBS bubBL'D bubBLeS bubBLeST ruBS craDLe treaDST craDL'D ridDLE'ST humBL'DST hum-BL'ST kiDS leaDS meaDS bleeDS fourTH fouRTHS fLFTH fiFTHS siX siXTHS seveNTH seveXTHS eigHTH eighTHS boTH THink breaTHE sheaTHe CHeer CHime catCH latCH breaDTH breaDTHS stuFFS cuFFS liFT ]iFTS cloG cloGG'D strugGLe strugGLes strugGL'ST strugGL'D'ST TENTH LESSON caGe caG'D waGe waG'd FledG'D biLG'e biLG'D bucKLe bucKL'D twiXKLe twiXKLES twiXKL'D'ST shacKLe shacKL'ST breaK'ST looK'd pacK'd foLD foLDS siLK siLKS heLM overwheLM'D heLP ALPs heLFST puLSe faLL'st tweLVe tweLFTH tweLFTHS ourseLVES caLLS feeLS deLV'D stealTH steaLTHS naM'D atteMPT conteMPT straXGE pinCH pinCH'D wiXGS spriXGS leXGTH leXGTHS keePS distuRBS distuRB'D distuRB'D'ST ELEVENTH LESSON. tuRF foRGe foRG'D maRK maRKS maRK'ST peaRL huRL'D'ST haRM haRM'D faaftM'D»ST tuRN tuRXS tuRX I) tuKX'D'ST usuRP usuRPS usuRP'D veRSE buRST buRSTS paRT parTS paRT'ST paRTeDST seRVe seRVeS seRV'ST seRV'D'ST soaKS heaRS EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION. 11 peRCH seaRCH seaRCH'd seaRCHES maRSH eaRTH deaRTH riSK riSKS liSP lisSPS puZZLE puzZLES puzZL'D'ST priSM prisMS TWELFTH LESSON. Some of the combinations of vowels forming one syllable. ia is pronounced like ya, as in filial, pronounced fil-yal, ie " " " ye, as in spaniel, pronounced span- yel, io " " " yu, as in million, " mil-yun, ua " " " wa, as in assuage, " as-swage, cial M " " shal, as in social, " so-shal, tial " " " shal or tshel, as in nuptial, pro- nounced nup-shal, in bestial, pronounced bes-tsheal, science ) like shence, as in conscience, pronounced con-shence, tience j patience, pronounced pa-shence, tient pronounced like shent, as in patient, pronounced pa-shent, | pronounced like zhur, as in osier, pronounced o-zhur, sier zier sion pronounced like shun or zhun, as in version, pronounc- ed ver-shun, evasion, pronounced eva-zhun, cious j pronounced like shus, as in specious, pronounced spe- scious > shus, conscious, pronounced con-shus, factious, pro- tious ) nounced fac-shus, pronounced like shure or zhure, as m erasure, pror nounced era-zhure, pressure, pronounced presh- shure, pronounced like shun or tshun, as in nation, pronounc- ed na-shun, fustian, pronounced fus-tshun, pronounced like yur, as in courtier, pronounced kort-yur " " tsheous, as in courteous, pronounced kur-tshe-us, j pronounced like jur, as in soldier, pronounced sol-jur, > grandeur and verdure, pronounced gran-jur and ) ver-jur. sure tion tier teous dier deur dure 12 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. CHAPTER III. THIRTEENTH LESSON. GRAMMATICAL PAtiSK.5. The Grammatical pauses are The penod The colon The semicolon The comma The interrogation The exclamation The parenthesis - Marked thus ( ) The length of these pauses depends upon the nature of the subject, and the circumstances of the case in which they are used, rather than upon invariable rules. The period is supposed to be a pause double the time of the colon ; the colon, double that of a semicolon ; and the semi- colon, double that of the comma, which is generally stated to be long enough for the reader or speaker to count one. The interrogation and exclamation points are said to be indefinite as to their quantity of time, and to mark an elevation of voice ; and the parenthesis to mark a moderate depression or lowering of the voice, with a pause shorter than a comma. RHETORICAL PAUSES. Rhetorical Pauses are those pauses which, in addition to the grammatical pauses, are observed by good speakers or readers, to give variety to the tones of the voice, and distinctness, clearness and force to utterance. This pause is marked thus | The duration of the Rhetorical pauses depends upon the same principles as that of the grammatical pauses, although it is usually shorter. The Rhetorical pause should be made : 1st. After the nominative, if it consists of several words. 2d. After the nominative, if it is an important word. 3d. After the objective in inverted sentences, 4th. Before and after an intermediate clause. 5th. Before the relative. THE INFLECTIONS. 13 6th. Before and after clauses introduced by prepositions. 7th. Before conjunctions and the adverbs, how, why, when, where, &c. 8th. Before the infinitive mode, if any word intervene be- tween it and the word which governs it. EXAMPLES. The experience of want | enhances the value of plenty. Truth | is the basis | of excellence. On Linden | when the sun was low. Trials | in this state of being | are the lot of man. Death | is the season | which brings our affections to the test. From the right exercise | of our intellectual powers | arises | one | of the chief sources | of our happiness. We applaud virtue | even in enemies. Honor | and shame | from no conditions rise. A public speaker | may have a voice that is musical | and of great compass ; but it requires much time and labor | to attain its just modulation | and that variety of flexion and tone | which a pathetic discourse requires. CHAPTER IV. FOURTEENTH LESSON. THE INFLECTIONS. The monotone is a continuation of sound on the same pitch or key. It is marked thus . The monotone has great force and dignity in pronouncing grave, solemn and sublime language. EXAMPLE. thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers ! whence are thy beams, Sun ! thy everlasting light ? Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty ; the stars hide themselves in the sky ; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. But thou thyself movest alone. 2 14 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. By inflection is meant the turning or slide of the voice up- ward or downward from any pitch or key. The rising inflection, marked thus is that upward slide of the voice which is used in asking a question beginning with a verb, as, Did he say no ? The falling inflection, marked thus is that downward slide of the voice which is usually made in answering a ques- tion, as, Did he say no ? He did ; he said no. FIFTEENTH LESSON. TABLE OF INFLECTIONS. Did he say hate or late ? He said hate, not late. Did he say beat or peat ? He said beat, not peat. Did he say file or vile ? He said file, not vile. Did he say goal or coal ? He said goal, not coal. Did he say flute or lute ? He said flute, not lute. Did he say man or men? He said man, not men. Did he say pin or fin ? He said pin, not fin. Did he say blot or plot ? He said blot, not plot. Did he say born or horn ? He said born, not horn. Did he say burn or turn ? He said burn, not turn. Did he say bar or far ? He said bar, not far. CIRCUMFLEX. 15 Did he say fast or last ? He said fast, not last. Did he say call or hall ? He said call, not hall. Did he say. true or drew ? He said true, not drew. Did he say full or pull ? He said full, not pull. Did he say bird or third ? He said bird, not third. The inflections in the foregoing table may he varied from one tone to an octave. Practising long intervals is specially recommended, as tend- ing to give firmness, strength and variety to the voice. CHAPTER V. SIXTEENTH LESSON. ' CIRCUMFLEX. By circumflex is meant two slides of the voice. The rising circumflex, marked thus V consists of the down- ward and upward inflections. The falling circumflex, marked thus A consists of the up- ward and downward inflections. The rising circumflex is principally used on "words spoken ironically- — that is, on words expressing one thing and mean- ing another. EXAMPLE. V V A Hear him, my lord : he is wondrous condescending. Here under leave of Brutus and the rest, V And Brutus is an honorable man. V V V So are they all, all honorable men. The falling circumflex generally is used to express reproach, 16 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. and may be exemplified by the drawling tone we hear on the word you, in Hamlet's answer to his mother, who says — Queen. Hamlet, yon have your father much offended. Hamlet. Madam, you have my father much offended. Both these circumflex inflections may be exemplified in thus V A — If you said so then I said so. SOME OF THE RULES FOR THE INFLECTIONS. Rule 1. The rising inflection should be made when a question is asked beginning with a verb, as, Did you hear ? Is the king dead ? Rule 2. The rising inflection should be made between the nomina- tive and the verb, as, Adversity is the parent of piety. Rule 3. The rising inflection should be made at a pause in a sen- tence, where the sense is not completed, as, Whatever your hands find to do, that do with your might. Rule 4. In a sentence, where the two principal parts depend on each other for sense, the voice slides up where the sense or where the meaning begins to be formed, as, At the same time that I think discretion the most useful talent a man can be master of, I look upon cunning to be the accom- plishment of little, mean and ungenerous minds. SEVENTEENTH LESSON. Rule 5. The rising inflection takes place between the parts of a sen- tence connected by corresponding conjunctions, adverbs, the subjunctive mode, and the comparative degree, as, THE INFLECTIONS. 17 As trees and plants necessarily arise from seeds, so are you, Anthony, the seed of this most calamitous war. We may as well be refreshed with a clear and brisk dis- course, as by the air of Campanian wines. If there were no cowardice, there would be little insolence. When you have leisure, attend to the improvement of your mind. It is more blessed to give, than to receive. Rule 6. The rising inflection takes place between the parts of a sen- tence introduced by participles, adjectives, mfmitives and pre- positions, as, Conquered and enslaved, it is not boldness, but necessity, that urges to battle. Awkward in his person and ungainly in his manners, James was ill qualified to command respect. To say the least, they have betrayed great want of candor. In the ruffled and angry hour, we view every appearance through a false medium. Rule 7. The rising inflection takes place before a relative, where it modifies or limits the antecedent, as, No man ever attained lasting fame, who did not, on several occasions, contradict the prejudices of popular applause. Rule 8. The rising inflection takes place when we address, invite, petition, or request, as, Gentlemen, allow me to lay before you the object of my mis- sion, which I will do as briefly as possible. 2* 18 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Rule 9. The rising inflection takes place in negative sentences, as, He was virtuous, not vicious. Rule 10. The rising inflection takes place between the parts of an antithesis or between sentences in opposition to each other, as, Philosophy makes us wiser, Christianity makes us better men. Rule 11. Where interrogative sentences are connected by the disjunc- tive, or, the first ends with the rising, the rest with the falling inflection, as, Shall we crown the author of the public calamities, or shall we destroy him ? Rule 12. The rising inflection takes place on the repeating word or thought, as, Can Parliament be so dead to its dignity and duty, as to give its sanction to measures thus obtruded and forced upon us ? Measures, my Lords, which have reduced this late flourish- ing kingdom to scorn and contempt ! Note. — Series denotes an enumeration of particulars. If the enumeration consists of single words, it is called a simple series; when it consists of several words, it is called a compound series. When the sense requires that there should be a rising slide on the last particular, the series is called the commencing series ; and when the sense requires the falling slide on the last particular, it is called the concluding series. Rule 13. The rising inflection is made on the last particular of a com- mencing series ; and on the last but one in a concluding series. Rule 14. The falling inflection takes place on all the particulars but the last in a commencing series, and on all but the last but one in a concluding series. (Commencing Serie3.) To advise the ignorant, relieve the THE INFLECTIONS. 19 needy, comfort the afflicted, are duties that fall in our way, almost every day in our lives. (Concluding Series.) Nature has laid out all her art in beau- ifying the face ; she has touched it with vermilion, planted in it a row of ivory, made it the seat of smiles and blushes, lighted it up and enlivened it with the brightness of the eyes, hung it on each side with curious organs of sense, given it airs and graces that cannot be described, and surrounded it with such a flowing shade of hair, as sets all its beauties in the most agreeable light. Rule 15. The falling inflection takes place when the sense is finish- ed, when an affirmation is made, or a command is given, as, Nothing valuable can be gained without labor. Charge, Chester! charge! On, Stanley! on! Rule 16. The falling inflection takes place at the end of questions be- ginning with interrogative pronouns or adverbs, as, What is your name ? Who comes here ? When shall you go ? Rule 17. The falling inflection takes place on a clause which makes perfect sense of itself, followed by a clause which merely illustrates or gives something additional, and not as a consequence of what is in the first clause, as, - An elevated genius employed in little things, appears like the sun in his evening declination ; he remits his splendor, but retains his magnitude ; and pleases more, though he dazzles less. Note.-— The foregoing are only a part of the general rules which relate to the inflec- tions. But they are deemed sufficient for general purposes. It should also be remarked, that any of the general rules of inflections may be varied by emphasis. 20 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. EXAMPLES OF INFLECTIONS. EIGHTEENTH LESSON. MARCELLUS TO THE MOB. Wherefore rejoice ? that Caesar comes in triumph ? What conquests brings he home ? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels ? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! Oh you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The livelong day with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome. And do you now put on your best attire, And do you now cull out a holiday, And do you now strew flowers in his way That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ? Begone ! run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plagues That needs must light on this ingratitude. EMPHASIS. 21 CHAPTER VI. NINETEENTH LESSON. EMPHASIS. By emphasis is meant a stronger and fuller sound of voice, by which we distinguish some word or words on which we design to lay particular stress or force, and to show how they affect the rest of the sentence. A GENERAL RULE FOR EMPHASIS. Whenever words are contrasted with, contradistinguished from, or opposed to, other words expressed or understood, they are always emphatical. Note. — When both parts of this opposition or contrast are expressed, then em- phatic words become very obvious, as, 'Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill Appear in WRITING or in JUDGING ill. But when but one part of the opposition or contrast is expressed, and the other is to be supplied by the understanding, the emphatical word is not so easily discovered. EXAMPLES. I'll be in men's DESPITE a monarch. (That is, in their spite not in their favor.) Such plays alone should please a British ear, As CATO'S SELF would not disdain to hear. (That is, not merely an ordinary man, but Cato.) A CHILD might understand it. (That is, not merely a man, but a child.) I am tortured to madness when I THINK of the insult. (That is, not merely when it is spoken of but "when I think of it.) How beautiful is nature in her WILDEST scenes. (Not merely in her soft and tranquil scenes, but in her wildest scenes.) Do you ride to town TO-DAY ? (To day and not to-morrow.) 22 ELOCUTION MADE EASY, Do you ride to TOWN to-day? (To town and not the country.) Do you RIDE to town to-day ? (Do you ride and not walk ?) Do YOU ride to town to-day ? (Do you and not your son ?) DO you ride to town to-day ? (Do you go at all or stay at home ?) CHAPTER VII. TWENTIETH LESSON. THE KEYS OR PITCHES OF THE VOICE. Note.— A change of key is generally required at the commencement of a new sen- tence. The principal keys of the voice are the low, the middle and the high. The low key is adapted to solemn and sublime subjects. EXAMPLE. The Lord, the sovereign sends his summons forth, Calls the south nations, and awakes the north ; From east to west the sounding orders spread, Through distant worlds and regions of the dead. The middle key is adapted to common conversation. The high key is adapted to high excitement. COURAGE CHIVALROUS EXCITEMENT HIGH, LOUD, SLOW. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace, there 's nothing so becomes a man, As modest stillness, and humility ; MANAGEMENT OF THE BREATH. 23 But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger ; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage. On, on, you noblest English, Whose blood is fetched from fathers of war-proof ! Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders, Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought, And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game 's afoot ; Follow your spirit : and, upon this charge, Cry — Heaven for Harry ! England ! and St. George ! COURAGE— DESPERATE EXCITEMENT — HIGH, LOUD, SLOW, MORE ASPIRATED. Fight, gentlemen of England ! fight, bold yeomen ! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head : Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood ; Amaze the welkin with your broken staves ! — A thousand hearts are great within my bosom : Advance our standards, set upon our foes ; Our ancient word of courage, fair St. George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons ! Upon them ! Victory sits on our helms. CHAPTER VIII. TWENTY-FIRST LESSON. THE MANAGEMENT OF THE BREATH. The importance of skillfully managing the breath can be duly appreciated by those only who have been trained to it. It is much to be regretted, that this subject has not received more attention from writers on Elocution ; while some musical writers have given it a prominent place in their works, and the most eminent teachers of vocal music give it special atten- tion in their instructions. But most teachers of Reading and 24 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Speaking more or less neglect it. This is one of the main reasons that so few efficient and accomplished readers are found in many of our schools. This subject has a special claim to attention, as it has an important bearing on health, as well as on elocution. A few exercises are here submitted, which may be readily understood, and practised by any teacher who may concur with the author in his opinion of their utility. It is confidently believed, that by exercises like the following, the power and extent of the voice may be greatly increased. Note. — Let the pupil or pupils inhale a full breath before commencing, and con- tinue the sound of the vowel, on one key or pitch, while the teacher or another pupil is counting the numbers expressed above the line. In all cases a full breath should be taken as quickly as possible. A new pitch may be taken at each line. Those who are acquainted with the rudiments of music, will find it beneficial to practise these or similar exercises in octaves, or such other distances as they may prefer. TWENTY-SECOND LESSON. Teacher, 123456789 10 11 12 pupil, Ha --------- _ le Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 pupil, A---------- - h Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 pupil, A--------- - 11 Teacher, 12345 5789 10 11 12 pupil, Ma --------- - n Teacher, 123456789 10 11 12 pupil, Hee --------- - 1 Teacher, 123456789 10 11 12 pupil, Be--------- 11 Teacher, 123456789 10 11 12 pupil, Pi --------- -ne Teacher, 123456789 10 11 12 pupil, Hi--------- - 11 Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 pupil, Bi --------- - rd Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 pupil, Mo --------- - le Teacher, 123456789 10 11 12 pupil, Mo --------- - Ve MANAGEMENT OF THE BREATH. 25 Teacher, 123456789101 pupil, Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 r 12 pupil, No Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 t 12 pupil, Tu Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 be 12 pupil, Tu Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 b 12 12 pupil, Fu --------- - 11 TWENTY-THIRD LESSON. Teacher, 12 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Teacher, Ha 1p 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Teacher, A - 1 2 fc 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 IS 19 20 pupil, Teacher, A - 1 2 - 11 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Teacher, Ma - 1 2 ., 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 • ] Hee- 1 2 1 pupil, Teacher, 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 • i Be- 1 2 \\ pupu, Teacher, 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Teacher, Pi 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Teacher, Hi- 1 2 U 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Teacher, fti rd 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 J6 17 18 19 20 pupil, Teacher, Mo- 1 2 - le 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Teacher, Mo- 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Teacher, o „ 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 — — — r 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, No 26 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Tu - - - - - - - - -be Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Tu - ---- - - - - b Teacher, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 pupil, Fu - - - - - - - - - 11 TWENTY- FOURTH LESSON. Tea'r., 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pupil,Ha- - - - - ^ r - - - - - - - - - - -** - - ' - ' .'-. . - - le Tea'r., 1 23 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 2G 27 28 29 30 31 32 pupil, A ._._ . _ _ . h Tea'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pupil, A -- - - * - -- - -- - 11 Tea'r. I 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 1920 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pu'l. Ma _-- _ _ _ - -n Tea'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 p'l. Hee - - .- - - 1 Tear. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29-30 31 32 pupiLBe .._-.._-__-,_----__---.ji Tea'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pupil, Pi - ._.. H Tea'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 1C 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pupil,Hi - - - - -- -- - - - - 11 Tea'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pupil, Bi - - rd Tea'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pu'l. Mo _.-..---_ le Tea'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pu'l. Mo - ve Tea' r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pupil, O--- -- _..- r Tea'r . 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pu'l, No t Te a'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pu'l. Tu - - - - - - be Tea'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pu'l.Tu -- - - _____--.------ b Tea'r. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 pupil, Fu "- "" M MANAGEMENT OF THE BREATH. 27 CHAPTER IX. TWENTY-FIFTH LESSON. Note. — In the following selections the capital letter (R) denotes the place for res- piration, or drawing the breath. But let it not be understood that the places thus de- noted are the only places at which the breath should be taken ; or, that it should always be taken at them, unless as an exeroise for the voice. Some persons can read, speak, or siiig much longer with one breath, than others. Therefore no definite rules for respiration should be given. THE RAINBOW. Baldwin's Lond. Magazine. (R) The evening was glorious, and light through the trees (R) Play'd the sunshine and rain-drops, the birds and the breeze, (R) The landscape, outstretching in loveliness, lay (R) On the lap of the year, in the beauty of May. (R) For the queen of the Spring, as she pass'd down the vale, Left her robe on the trees, and her breath on the gale ; (R) And the smile of her promise gave joy to the hours, And flush in her footsteps sprang herbage and flowers. (R) The skies, like a banner in sun-set unroll'd, O'er the west threw their splendor of azure and gold ; (R) But one cloud at a distance rose dense, and increas'd, Till its margin of black touch'd the zenith, and east. (R) We gazed on the scenes, while around us they glow'd, When a vision of beauty appear'd on the cloud ;— (R) 'Twas not like the Sun, as at mid-day we view, Nor- the Moon, that rolls nightly through star-light and blue. (R) Like a spirit, it came in the van of a storm ! And the eye, and the heart, hail'd its beautiful form, (R) For it look'd not severe, like an Angel of Wrath, But its garment of brightness illumed its dark path. 28 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. (R) In the hues of its grandeur, sublimely it stood, O'er the river, the village, the field, and the wood ; (R) And river, field, village, and woodlands grew bright, As conscious they gave and afforded delight. (R) 'Twas the bow of Omnipotence, bent in His hand Whose grasp at Creation the universe spann'd ; (R) 'Twas the presence of God, in a symbol sublime, His vow from the flood to the exit of time. (R) Not dreadful, as when in the whirlwind he pleads, When storms are his chariot, and lightnings his steeds, (R) The black clouds his banner of vengeance unfurl'd, And thunder his voice to a guilt-stricken world ;— (R) In the breath of his presence, when thousands expire, And seas boil with fury, and rocks burn with fire, (R) And the sword and the plague-spot, with death strew the plain, And vultures, and wolves, are the graves of the slain. (R) Not such was the Rainbow, that beautiful one ! Whose arch was refraction, its keystone — the Sun ; (R) A pavilion it seem'd which the Deity graced, And Justice and Mercy met there, and embraced. (R) Awhile, and it sweetly bent over the gloom, Like Love o'er a death couch, or Hope o'er the tomb ; Then left the dark scene ; whence it slowly retired, As Love had just vanished, or Hope had expired. (R) I gazed not alone on that source of my song ; To all who beheld it these verses belong ; Its presence to all was the path of the Lord ! Each full heart expanded, grew warm, and adored. (R) Like a visit — the converse of friends — or a day, That bow, from my sight, passed for ever away : Like that visit, that converse, that day — to my heart, That bow from remembrance can never depart. MANAGEMENT OF THE BREATH. 29" (R) J Tis a picture in memory distinctly defined, With the strong and unperishing colors of mind : A part of my being beyond my control, Beheld on that cloud, and transcribed on my soul. TWENTY-SIXTH LESSON. Extract from Heroines of Sacred History, by Mrs. Steele. HEROISM OF DEBORAH. (R) Night "with her lustrous stars, her silence and repose, had passed away, (R) and soft-eyed dawn, heralded by gentle zephyrs, and breathing out perfume, (R) arose from Asia's mists like the poet's Venus from the sea, (R) all smiles and gladness. (R) Each flower threw out its fairy petals, (R) and wafted forth its fragrant incense to the day. (R) Almond and citron blossoms, brilliant pomegranate, (R) and oleander tossed the dew from their delicate heads, (R) and shook their fragile branches in the morning breeze. (R) The birds were on every bough (R) sing- ing their rejoicings to the coming day; (R) for as yet the sun had not appeared, (R) but clouds of rose and purple told of his near approach, (R) and threw a softened radiance over plain and hill and valley. (R) A clear and gentle river — Kishon, (R) "that ancient river, the river Kishon," (R) wound through the verdant plain. (R) By its side arose a sloping hill, (R) whose summit was crowned by a grove of oaks and elms, (R) among whose shadows a lordly temple was just made visible (R) as the sun's first rays fell on the hill-top, (R) while all below still lay in shade. (R) The rising light revealed its snowy porticos and lofty arches, (R) and graceful columns of rare proportion ; (R) then passing down the hill shone on a procession of solemn worshippers (R) who were winding along the river's bank, and ascending to the temple above. (R) Conspicuous among the throng were the sacred oxen, (R) who gaily decorated with ribbons, and w 7 reathed with roses, (R) w^ere led by young boys clad in white robes (R) and crowned with garlands. (R) Behind them came a train of women dancing, (R) and singing to in- struments of music ; (R) while preceding and around the vic- tims were several hundred priests (R) whose black robes threw the only shadow over a landscape (R) now brightly illumhv 3* 30 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. ed by the broadly risen sun. (R) The procession ascended the hill ; (R) the temple doors were thrown open ; (R) the priests entered and advanced to the altar. (R) There upon two pedes- tals, stood the gods they came to worship. (R) The one, a man cast in brass, having an ox's head — (R) the other of marble, and human shape, clothed in a coat of golden mail, (R) wearing a crown and wielding a sword ; (R) the former was Moloch, and the latter Baal. (R) To these gods of marble and gold (R) the priests and people had come to ask for protection from a pow- erful enemy, (R) who in predatory bands made inroads upon them, (R) and carried away flocks, and people, and goods. Reader, canst thou say in what land arose this temple, (R) these images of marble, and these idol worshippeis ? (R) Canst thou believe it was in Israel ? (R) In the promised land ? (R) Alas — it was the dear-bought land of Canaan (R) and these de- luded idolators were the sons of Judah, (R) once God's own peculiar people ! TWENTY-SEVENTH LESSON. Extract from the same. HEROISM OF JEPTHAH'S DAUGHTER. The city of Gilead was filled with rejoicing (R) that their enemy was repelled, (R) and its streets were crowded with the citizens, (R) eager to behold the triumphant entry (R) of their victorious leader. (R) Jepthah approached, seated in a brazen chariot (R) surrounded by his steel clad warriors. (R) His robe of blue embroidered with gold, (R) was bound by a broad girdle of golden mail, (R) a sword hung in chains from his side, and shoes of brass defended his feet, (R) a scarlet mantle fell from his shoulders, and around his head (R) was a band of steel chain- work, from which, projected in front, (R) a horn of gold, giving him a fierce and terrible appearance. (R) When the procession arrived before the house of Jepthah (R) the gate was thrown open, and a group of young girls came dancing forth, (R) mingling their jocund music with the cheers of the populace. (R) What saw the conqueror in yon joyous train, (R) that he started as if a shot from the enemy's archers had stricken him ! — (R) why bowed his lofty head unto his bosom ? (R) At the head of the youthful train came the hero's MANAGEMENT OF THE BREATH. 31 daughter, his only child, (R) holding aloft the sweet sounding timbrel, and attired as became a ruler's daughter, (R) in a robe of divers colors, richly embroidered (R) with gorgeous feather- work, and gold, and silk of varied dyes. (R) A fillet of white roses bound her dark tresses, (R) and her tiny feet were strapped in scarlet sandals. (R) Smiles lighted up her fair face, and her soft dove's eyes (R) beamed with filial tender- ness (R) when raised to her lordly father. (R) Behind her, were the maidens of Gilead, clad in white, with chaplets of red roses; (R) their slender ancles circled with silver bells. (R) Like leaves from a gay parterre* swept onward by a summer breeze, (R) these lovely flow'rets floated in mazy wnirls (R) until beside the chariot of the conqueror. (R) The daughter of Jepthah approached her father, (R) and when the people looked to see him fold her in his embrace (R) with a frantic start, he rent the bosom of his gilded robe, (R) and covering his head with his mantle (R) he groaned with anguish. (R) " My father !" said a gentle voice beside him. (R) " Alas, my daughter !" (R) cried the conqueror, with a burst of agony (R ) — " From my high estate of joy thou hast brought me low down in the dust !" (R) There was deep silence while he spoke — " God, forgive me ! (R) my child, forgive me ! (R) When I faced the children of Amnion in battle, (R) I vowed, if the Lord would deliver them into my hands, (R) I would offer up, as sacrifice unto him, (R) the first that* came forth from my house to meet me ! (R) Thou art the first— my child ! my only one !" (R) A deep consternation fell upon the hearts of all, when this rash vow was heard — (R) on all, save upon that fair and gentle creature who was the victim. (R) With brow unblanch- ed, and with a glow of generous self-devotion, she said to Jepthah — " (R) My father, if thou hast opened thy mouth to the Lord, (R) do unto me as thou hast vowed. (R) Thy God hath made thee conqueror over thy enemies — (R) the children of Ammon have fallen before thee, (R) and if I am to be the price of victory, (R) take me and do unto me according to thy vow. (R) I die for my country and for my father — (R) in that death there is no bitterness." * Parterre pronounced partare — a flower-garden. 32 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. CHAPTER X. TWENTY-EIGHTH LESSON. GESTURE. Fig. 1. Note.— TTiis Jigure represents the lowest point of inclination in a boio. A graceful and impressive action is one of the highest ac- complishments of the oraror. So it was deemed by the cele- brated orators of Athens and Rome. Its importance gives it a just claim to the special attention of teachers of Elocution. But in a volume of this size, a full treatise on this subject cannot be expected. The following figures are designed to give the pupil a gene- ral idea of appropriate gestures, and to enable him to exercise his own taste and judgment, in the use of such other gestures, as may enforce and illustrate the various thoughts and senti- ments he may be called upon to utter. SOME OF THE SIGNIFICANT GESTURES. The Head and Face. The hanging down of the head denotes shame or grief. The holding of it up, pride or courage. To nod forward implies assent. To toss the head back, dissent. The inclination of the head implies bashfulness or languor. The head is averted in dislike or horror. It 'eans forward in attention. GESTURE. 33 The Eyes. The eyes are raised in prayer. They weep in sorrow. They burn in anger. They are downcast or averted in anger. They are cast on vacancy in thought. They are thrown in different directions in doubt and anxiety. The Arms. The arm is projected forward in authority. Both arms are spread extended in admiration. They are both held forward in imploring help. The}' both fall suddenly in disappointment. The Hands. The hand on the head indicates pain or distress. On the eyes, shame. On the lips, injunction of silence. On the breast, it appeals to conscience, or intimates strong internal emotion. The hand waves or flourishes in joy or contempt. Both hands are held supine, applied or clasped in prayer. Both descend prone in blessing. They are clasped or wrung in affliction. The Body. The body, held erect, indicates steadiness and courage. Thrown back, pride. Stooping forward, condescension or compassion. Bending, reverence or respect. Prostration, the utmost humility or abasement. The Lower Limbs. Their firm position signifies courage or obstinacy. Bended knees, timidity or weakness. Frequent change, disturbed thoughts. They advance in desire or courage. Retire in aversion or fear, Start in terror, Stamp in authority or anger. Kneel in submission and prayer. 34 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. il.It.Av X.1BL.L trU.fc xJL.l In the second and third figures, the foot which is deeply- shaded supports the principal part of the body, and that which is lightly shaded rests lightly upon the floor. The rest- ing foot moves first, in changing the position. The two feet in the centre of each figure, represent the starting point, or original position. The direction in which the feet move, is marked by dotted lines. The line in which the first foot moves is distinguished by a star. In each figure four steps may be made from each starting point or original posi- tion. GESTURE. 35 Fig. 5. POINTING TO THE ZENITH. CONVERSATION. In Figures 3 and 4, r is abbreviated for rest, d for down- wards, h for horizontal, e for elevated, z for zenith ; denoting the direction of the arm. Fig. 6. Fig. 7. APPEALING TO CONSCIENCE. INTENSE GRIEF, 36 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. j^.a Fig. 9. EARNEST APPEAL. HORROR OR EXTREME AVERSION. mg.iQ. Fig.ll. ADMIRATION OF SURROUNDING OBJECTS. APPEALING TO HEAVEN. GESTURE. 37 Fig. 12. Fig. 13. TRIUMPH. Fig. 14. Fig. 15. MELANCHOLY. 38 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Fig. 16. Fig. 17. " A widow cries, Be husband to me, heaven." King John* act 3, sc. 1. f This arm shall vindicate a father's cause. Grecian Daughter scene last. Fig. 18. Fig. 19. M See where she stands like Helen." Fair Penitent, act 5, sc. 1. " Jehovah's arm snatched from the waves and brings to me my child." Douglas, act 3, sc. 2. GESTURE. 39 TWENTY-NINTH LESSON. Note. — The little stars in each of the following figures show the place of the posi- tion of the hands in the preceding figure ; and the dotted lines show the direction of transition from one gesture to another. But it may not be advisable to aim at precise imitation in making the transitions. These lines, as well as the figures to which they are attached, are designed to serve only as a general guide. THE MISER AND PLUTtfS. Fig. 20. Fig. 21. The wind was high — the window shakes ; Fig. 22. Fig. 23. With sudden start the miser Along the silent room he wakes ! stalks ; 40 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Fig. 24. Fig. 25. Each lock, and every bolt he tries, and trembles as he walks ! Fig. 21 In ev'ry creek and corner pries ; Fig. 28. Then opes his chest, with treasure stor'd, And stands in rapture o'er his hoard : GESTURE, 41 Fig. 30. Fig. 31. But now -with sudden qualms possest, He wrings his hands; he beats his breast — Fig. 32. Fig. 33. By conscience stung, he wildly stares ; And thus his guilty soul declares : Fig. 34. J^.35 Had the deep earth her stores confm'd, 5* This heart had known sweet peace of mind; 42 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Fig. 36. Fig. 37. But virtue's sold ! Fig. 38. Can recompense the pangs of vice ? Good gods ! what price Fig. 39. O bane of good ! seducing cheat ! Fig. 40. Fig. 41. Can man, weak man, thy power defeat ? GESTURE. 43 Fig. 42. Fig. 43. Gold banish'd honor from the mind, Fig. 44. Gold sow'd the world with ev'ry ill ; Fig. 46. 'Twas gold instructed coward hearts And only left the name behind; Fig. 45. Gold taught the murd'rer's sword to kill : Fig. 47. In treach'ry's more pernicious arts, 44 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Fig. 48. Fig. 49. Who can recount the mischiefs o'er ? Virtue resides on earth no more ! THE SAME WITHOUT THE FIGURES — The wind was high — the window shakes ; With sudden start the miser wakes ! Along the silent room he stalks ; Looks back, and trembles as he walks ! Each lock, and every bolt he tries, In ev'ry creek and corner pries ; Then opes his chest, with treasure stor'd, And stands in rapture o'er his hoard : But now with sudden qualms possest, He wrings his hands ; he beats his breast — By conscience stung, he wildly stares ; And thus his guilty soul declares : Had the deep earth her stores confm'd, This heart had known sweet peace of mind ; But virtue's sold ! good gods ! what price Can recompense the pangs of vice ' bane of good ! seducing cheat ! Can man, weak man, thy power defeat ? Gold banish'd honor from the mind, And only left the name behind ; Gold sovv'd the world with ev'ry ill; Gold taught the murd'rer's sword to kill : 'Twas gold instructed coward hearts In treach'ry's more pernicious arts. Who can recount the mischiefs o'er ? Virtue resides on earth no more ! SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 45 CHAPTER XI. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. Note.— In the following Selections the sign of the Rhetorical Pause is made in most of the places authorized by the Rules of Rhetorical Punctuation. A strict atten- tion to these pauses will conduce greatly to the pupil's improvement in Elocution. — The Sections are made short to accommodate young pupils, and those who may not wish to commit to memory a whole Lesson. THIRTIETH LESSON. speech of james otis. — Francis. Section 1. England | may as well dam up the waters of the Nile | with bulrushes, as to fetter the step of freedom, more proud and firm | in this youthful land, than where she treads the seques- tered* glens of Scotland, or conches herself | among the mag- nificent mountains | of Switzerland. Arbitrary principles, like those against which we now contend, have cost one king of England his life, another his crown, and they may yet cost a third his most flourishing colonies. We are two millions — one-fifth fighting men. We are bold and vigorous, and we call no man master. To the nation, from whom we are proud to derive our origin, we ever were, and we ever will be, ready to yield unforced assistance; but it must not, and it never can be extorted. f Some have sneeringly asked, " Are the Americans too poor to pay a few pounds on stamped paper ?" No ! America, thanks to God and herself, is rich. But. the right to take ten pounds, implies the right to take a thousand ; and what must be the wealth, that avarice, aided by power, cannot exhaust ? True, the spectrej is now small ; but the shadow | he casts before him | is huge enough to darken all this fair land. Others, in sentimental style, talk of the immense debt of grati- tude | which we owe to England. And what is the amount of this debt? Why, truly, it is the same that the young lion owes to the dam, which has brought it forth | on the solitude * Sequestered) secluded — at a distance from other inhabited places, t Extorted^ gained by force. t Spectre, an apparition— a ghost 46 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. of the mountain, or left it | amid the winds and storms of the desert. Section 2. We plunged into the wave, with the great charter of freedom in our teeth, because the fagot and torch were behind us. We have waked the new world from its savage lethargy ;* forests have been prostrated | in our path; towns and cities have grown up suddenly | as the flowers of the tropics, f and the fires | in our autumnal woods | are scarcely more rapid than the increase of our wealth | and population. And do we owe all this | to the kind succor of the mother country ? No ! we owe it to the tyranny | that drove us from her | to the pelting storms | which invigorated our helpless infancy. But perhaps others will say, "We ask no money | from your gratitude— we only demand | that you should pay your own expenses." And who, I pray, is to judge of their necessity ? Why, the king — (and with all due reverence | to his sacred majesty, he understands the real wants | of his distant sub- jects, as little | as he does the language of the Choctaws.) Who is to judge | concerning the frequency of these demands? The ministry. Who is to judge | whether the money | is pro- perly expended ? The cabinet | behind the throne. In every instance, those who take are to judge | for those who pay ; if this system | is suffered to go into operation, we shall have reason to esteem it a great privilege, that rain and dew | do not depend upon Parliament ; otherwise | they would soon be taxed and dried. But thanks to God there is freedom enough left upon earth | to resist such monstrous injustice. The flame of liberty | is extinguished:): | in Greece and Rome, but the light of its glowing embers | is still bright and strong | on the shores of America. Actuated by its sacred influence, we will resist | unto death. But we will not countenance anarchy § and misrule. The wrongs, that a desperate community | have heaped upon their enemies, shall be amply and speedily repaired. Still, it may be well | for some proud men to remember, that a fire is lighted | in these colonies, which one breath of their king | may kindle into such fury, that the blood of all England | cannot extinguish it. * Lethargy, stupidity, dulness. t Eztinguislied, put out, quenched, t Tropics, warm countries near the equator. § Anarchy, want of government SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 47 THIRTY-FIRST LESSON. THE AMERICAN INDIANS.— SprdgUe. Section 1. Roll back the tide of time. Not many generations ago, where you now sit, circled with all that exalts and embellishes* civilized life, the rank thistle nodded in the wind, and the wild fox | dug his hole | unscared. Here lived and loved | another race of beings. Beneath the same sun | that rolls over your heads, the Indian hunter pursued the panting deer ; gazing on the same moon | that smiles for you, the Indian lover wooed his dusky mate. Here the wigwam blaze | beamed on the tender and helpless, the council fire glared | on the wise and da.ring. Now they dipped their noble limbs | in your sedgyf lakes, and now they paddled the light canoe | along your rocky shores. Here they warred; the echoing whoop, the bloody grapple, the defying death-song, all were here ; and when the tiger strife was over, here curled the smoke of peace. Here, too, they worshipped ; and | from many a dark bosom | went up a pure prayer to the Great Spirit. He had not written his laws for them | on tables of stone, but He had traced them | on the tables of their hearts. Section 2. The poor child of nature | knew not the God of revelation, but the God of the universe | he acknowledged | in everything around. He beheld him | in the star that sunk in beauty j be- hind his lonely dwelling ; in the sacred orb | that flamed on him | from his midday throne ; in the flower that snapped | in the morning breeze ; in the lofty pine, that defied a thousand whirlwinds ; in the timid warbler | that never left' its native grove ; in the fearless eagle, whose untired pinion was wet in clouds ; in the worm | that crawled at his foot ; and in his own matchless form, glowing with a spark of that light, to whose mysterious source he bent, in humble, though blind adoration. And all this has passed away Across the ocean | came a * Embellishes, makes beautiful. t Sedgy, overgrown with flags. 48 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. pilgrim bark, bearing the seeds of life and death. The former | were sown for you ; the latter [ sprang up in the path of the simple native. Two hundred years | have changed the char- acter | of a great continent, and blotted for ever | from its face | a whole peculiar people. Art has usurped the bowers of nature, and the anointed children of education | have been too powerful | for the tribes of the ignorant. Here and there a stricken few remain, but how unlike then bold, untameable progenitors !* Section 3. The Indian, of falconf glance, and lion bearing, the theme of the touching ballad, the hero of the pathetic tale, is gone ; and his degraded offspring | crawl upon the soil | where he walked in majesty, to remind us how miserable is man | when the foot of the conqueror | is on his neck. As a race, they have withered from the land. Their arrows are broken, their springs are dried up, their cabins are in the dust. Their council fire | has long since gone out on the shore, and their war-cry | is fast dying | to the untrodden west. Slowly and sadly | they climb the distant mountains, and read their doom | in the setting sun. They are shrinking before the mighty tide | which is pressing them away ; they must soon hear the roar | of the last wave, which will settle over them | for ever. Ages hence, the inquisitive:): white man, as he stands by some growing city, will ponder j on the structure of their disturbed remains, and wonder | to what manner of person they belonged. They will live only | in the songs and chro- nicles | of their exterminators. § Let these be faithful j to their rude virtues | as men, and pay due tribute | to their unhappy fate | as a people. * Proffcnitors, forefathers. | Falcon, pronounced fawk'n — like a hawk. $ Inquisitive, inquiring with curiosity. $ Exterminators, those who drove them away. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 49 THIRTY-SECOND LESSON. LAFAYETTE. SpVCLgUe. Section 1. While we bring our offerings j for the mighty of our own land, shall we not remember the chivalrous* spirits of other shores, who shared with them the hour of weakness and wo ? Pile to the clouds the majestic columns of glory, let the lips of those | who can speak well, hallow each spot | where the bones of your Bold repose ; but forget not those | who with your Bold | went out to battle. Among these men of noble daring, there was One, a young and gallantf stranger, who left the blushing vine-hills j of his delightful France. The people whom he came to succor, were not his people ; he knew them only | in the wicked story of their wrongs. He was no mercenary wretch, striving for the spoil of the vanquished; the palace acknowledged him for its lord, and the valley yielded him its increase. He was no nameless man, staking life for reputation ; he ranked among nobles, and looked unawed upon kings. He was no friendless outcast, seeking for a grave | to hide his cold heart ; he was girdled | by the companions of his childhood, his kinsmen were about him, his wife was before him. Section 2. Yet from all these he turned away, and came. Like a lofty tree, that shakes down its green glories | to battle with the winter storm, he flung aside the trappings^ of place and pride, to crusade for freedom, in freedom's holy land. He came — but not in the day of successful rebellion, not when the new- risen sun of independence | had burst the cloud of time, and careered to its place in the heavens. He came ("when dark- ness curtained the hills, and the tempest was abroad in its anger; when the plough stood still | in the field of promise, and briers cumbered the garden of beauty; when fathers were dying, and mothers were weeping over them; when the wife • Chivalrous, brave. X Trappings, ornaments, t Gallant, brave. 5 50 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. was binding up the gashed bosom of her husband, and the maiden was wiping the death damp | from the brow of her lover. He came | when the brave began to fear the power of man, and the pious | to doubt the favor of God. It was then | that this One joined the ranks of a revolted* people. Freedom's little phalanxf bade him a grateful wel- come. With them he courted the battle's rage, with their's his arm was lifted ; with their's his blood was shed. Long and doubtful was the conflict. At length kind heaven smiled | on the good cause, and the beaten invaders fled. The profane were driven | from the temple of liberty, and | at her pure shrine | the pilgrim warrior, with his adored commander, knelt and worshipped. Leaving there his offering, the incense of an uncorrupted spirit, he at length rose up, and, crowned with benedictions, turned his happy feet | towards his long-deserted home. Section 3. After nearly fifty years | that One has come again. Can mortal tongue tell, can mortal heart feel, the sublimity of that coming ? Exulting millions rejoice in it, and their loud, long, transporting shout, like the mingling of many winds, rolls on, undying, to freedom's farthest mountains. A congregated na- tion comes round him. Old men bless him, and children rever- ence him. The lovely come out to look upon him, the learned deck their halls to greet him, the rulers of the land rise up to do him homage. How his full heart labors ! He views the rust- ing trophies of departed days, he treads the high places | where his brethren moulder, he bends | before the tomb of his "Fa- ther :" — his words are tears : the speech of sad remembrance. But he looks round | upon aransomedland | and a joyous race ; he beholds the blessings | those trophies secured, for which those brethren died, for which that " Father" lived ; and again his words are tears ; the eloquence of gratitude and joy. Spread forth creation like a map ; bid earth's dead multitude revive ; — and of all the pageant splendors | that ever glittered to the sun, when looked his burning eye | on a sight like this ? * Revolted, rebellious, that had renounced allegiance to theii king. \ Phalanzy a body of soldiers. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 51 Of all the myriads | that have come and gone, what cherished minion | ever ruled an hour like this ? Many have struck the redeeming blow | for their own freedom ; but who, like this man, has bared his bosom | in the cause of strangers ? Others have lived | in the love of their own people, but who, like this man, has drank his sweetest cup of welcome | with another ? Matchless chief ! of glory's immortal tablets, there is one for him, for him alone ! Oblivion shall never shroud its splendor ; the everlasting name of liberty | shall guard it, that the generations of men | may repeat the name recorded there, the beloved name I of La Fayette ! • THIRTY-THIRD LESSON, ENGLISH TAXES. Edinburgh Review. Section 1. Permit me to inform you, my friends, what are the inevita- ble consequences | of being too fond of glory ; — Taxes — upon every article | which enters into the mouth, or covers the back, or is placed under the foot — taxes upon everything | which is pleasant to see, hear, feel, smell, or taste — taxes upon warmth, light, and locomotion* — taxes on everything on earth, and the waters under the earth — on everything that comes from abroad, or is grown at home — taxes on the raw material — taxes on every fresh value | that is added to it | by the indus- try of man — taxes on the sauce | which pampers man's appe- tite, and the drug | which restores him to health — on the er- mine* | which decorates the judge, and the rope which hangs the criminal — on the poor man's salt, and the rich man's spice — on the brass nails of the coffin, and the ribands of the bride. * * * * Section 2. The school-boy | whips his taxed top — the beardless youth | manages his taxed horse, with a taxed bridle, | on a taxed road ; — and the dying Englishman | pouring his medicine, * Locomotion, act of moving from one place to another. t Ermine, the-iir of an animal called the Ermine. 52 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. which has paid seven per cent, into a spoon | that has paid fifteen per cent. — flings himself back | upon his chintz bed | which has paid twenty-two per cent. — makes his will | on an eight pound stamp, and expires | in the arms of an apothecary, who has paid a license of a hundred pounds | for the privilege | of putting him to death. His whole property | is then im- mediately taxed | from two to ten per cent. Besides the pro- bate, large fees are demanded for burying him | in the chancel ; his virtues are handed down to posterity | on taxed marble ; and he is then gathered to his fathers, — to be taxed no more. THIRTY-FOURTH LESSON. south Carolina. — Haynes. Section 1. If there be one state in the Union, Mr. President (and I say it not in a boastful spirit), that may challenge comparison | with any other for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and uncalculat- ing devotion to the Union, that state | is South Carolina. Sir, from the very commencement of the revolution | up to this hour, there is no sacrifice, however great, she has not cheer- fully made ; no service | she has ever hesitated to perform. She has adhered to you | in your prosperity, but in your ad- versity she has clung to you | with more than filial affection. No matter | what was the condition of her domestic* affairs, though deprived of her resources, divided by parties, or sur- rounded by difficulties, the call of the country | has been to her | as the voice of God. Domestic discordf ceased | at the sound — every man became at once | reconciled to his brethren, and the sons of Carolina | were all seen | crowding together to the temple, bringing their gifts to the altar | of their common country. What, sir, was the conduct of the south | during the revolution? Sir, I honor New England for her conduct | in that glorious struggle : but great as is the praise | which be- longs to her, I think at least | equal honor is due to the south. * Domestic, belonging to home. t Domestic discord, discord in our own country. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 53 They espoused* the quarrel of their brethren | with generous zeal, which did not suffer them to stop | to calculate their in- terest in the dispute. Favorites of the mother country, pos- sessed of neither ships nor seamen | to create commercial rivalship, they might have found | in their situation a guaranty ! that their trade would be for ever fostered | and protected by Great Britain. But trampling on all considerations, either of interest or of safety, they rushed into the conflict, and fighting for principle, periled all in the sacred cause of freedom. Never was there exhibited | in the history of the world | higher examples of noble daring, dreadful suffering, and heroic endur- ance, than by the whigs of Carolina | during that revolution. The whole state, from the mountain to the sea, was overrun by an overwhelming force of the enemy. The fruits of indus- try perished | on the spot | where they were produced, or were consumed by the foe. The " plains of Carolina" drank up the most precious blood of her citizens — black and smoking ruins | marked the places | which had been the habitations of her children ! Driven from their homes | into the gloomy and almost impenetrable swamps, even there the spirit of liberty survivedf and South Carolina, sustained by the example of her Sumpters and her Marions, proved by her conduct, that | though her soil might l3e overrun, the spirit of her people | was invincible. t THIRTY-FIFTH LESSON. Massachusetts. — Webster. Section 1. The eulogium§ pronounced | on the character of the state of South Carolina | by the honorable gentleman,, for her revo- lutionary and other merits, meets my hearty concurrence. || I shall not acknowledge | that the honorable member goes be- fore me | in regard for whatever of distinguished talent, or dis- tinguished character, South Carolina has produced. I claim * Espoused, united in. || Eulogium, praise, t Survived, remained alive. § Concurrence, assent. % Invincible, not to be conquered. 54 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. part of the honor : I partake in the pride of her great names. I claim them for countrymen, one and all. The Laurenses, Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Marions — Amer- icans all — whose fame is no more to be hemmed in | by state lines, than their talents and patriotism were capable of being circumscribed* | within the same narrow limits. In their day and generation | they served and honored the country, and the whole country, and their renown is of the treasures of the whole country. Him, whose honored name the gentleman bears himself — does he suppose me less capable of gratitude for his patriotism, or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his eyes had first opened | upon the light in Massachu- setts | instead of South Carolina ? Sir, does he suppose it in his power | to exhibit a Carolina name so bright | as to pro- duce envy in my bosom ? No, sir, — increased gratification and delight, rather. Sir, I thank God, that if I am gifted with little of the spirit | which is said to be able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as I trust, of that other spirit, which would drag angels down. Section 2. When I shall be found, sir, in my place here in the senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, because it happened to spring up | beyond the little limits of my own state and neigh- borhood ; when I refuse, for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due to American talent, to elevated patriotism,! to sincere devotion to liberty and the country ; or if I see an un- common endowment of heaven — if I see extraordinary capa- city and virtue in any son of the south — and if, moved by local prejudice, or gangrened! by state jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair | from his just character and just fame, may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth ! Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections — let me indulge in refreshing remembrances of the past — let me remind you | that in early times no states cherished greater harmony, both of prin- ciple and of feeling, than Massachusetts and South Carolina. Would to God | that harmony might again return. Shoulder * Circumscribed, enclosed. % Gangrened, mortified, corrupted, f Patriotism, love of country. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 55 to shoulder | they went through the revolution — hand in hand | they stood round the administration of Washington, and felt his own great arm lean on them | for support. Unkind feel- ing, if it exist, alienation* and distrust are the growth, un- natural to such soils, of false principles since sown. They are weeds, the seeds of which that same great arm never scat- tered. Section 3. Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomiumf upon Massa- chusetts — she needs none. There she is — behold her and judge for yourselves. There is her history — the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker's Hill ; and there they will remain for ever. The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle for independence, now lie mingled | with the soil of every state, from New England to Georgia ; and there they will lie for ever. And, sir, where American liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurturedt and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it, | if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it ; if folly and madness, if uneasiness, under salutary§ and necessary restraint, shall succeed to separate it | from that Union, by which alone its existence is made sure, it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle | in which its infancy was rocked ; it will stretch forth its arm | with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends | who gather round it: and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin. * Alienation, change of affection. % Nurtured, nourished, cherished, t Encomium, praise. $ Salutary, safe, .promoting good. 56 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. THIRTY-SIXTH LESSON. SPEECH AGAINST THE AMERICAN WAR, AND THE EMPLOY- MENT of Indians in it. — Chatham. Section 1. I cannot, my lords, I will not, join in congratulation* | on misfortune and disgrace. This, my lords, is a perilous! and tremendous moment. It is not a time for adulation :J the smoothness of flattery | cannot save us | in this ragged and awful crisis. § It is now necessary to instruct the throne || | in the language of truth. We must, if possible, dispel the delu- sion and darkness | which envelope it, and display, in its full danger and genuine colors, the ruin which is brought to our doors. Can ministers still presume to expect support | in their infatuation ?ir Can Parliament be so dead to its dignity and duty as to give their support to measures | thus obtruded and forced upon them ? Measures, my lords, which have reduced this late flourishing empire to scorn and contempt ! But yes- terday, and Britain might have stood | against the world; now '• none so poor as to do her reverence !"** Section 2. The people, whom we at first despised as rebels, but whom we now acknowledge as enemies, are abetted!! against us, sup- plied with every military store, have their interest consulted, and their ambassadors entertained, by our inveterate enemy — and ministers do not, and dare not interpose!! with dignity or effect. The desperate state of our army abroad | is in part known. No man more highly esteems and honors the British troops | than I do ; I know their virtues and their valor ;§§ I know they can achieve|||| anything | but impossibilities ; and I know | that the conquest of British America | is an impossi- * Congratulation, a wishing of joy. ** Reverence, veneration, respect. t Perilotis, full of danger. tt Abetted, encouraged, aided, supported t Adulation, flattery, praise. +; Interpose, interfere. § Crisis, a critical time. §S Valor, courage. II Throne, the seat of the king. IH Achieve, perforin. * Infatuation, deprivation of reason, folly. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 57 bility. You cannot, my lords, you cannot conquer America-, What is your present situation there ? We do not know the worst; but we know | that in three campaigns ( we have done nothing, and suffered much. You may swell every expense, accumulate* every assistance, and extend your traffic | to the shambles of every German despot ; your attempts will be for ever vain and impotentf — - doubly so, indeed, from this mercenary t aid | on which you rely ; for it irritates to an incurable resentment, the minds of your adversaries, § to overrun them | with the mercenary sons of rapinejl and plunder, devoting them and their possessions | to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms — never, never, NEVER ! Section 3. But, my lords, who is the man that, in addition to the dis- graces and mischiefs of the war, has dared to authorize and associate | to our arms | the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savage ? — to call into civilized alliance, the wild and inhu- man inhabitant of the woods ? — to delegate | to the merciless Indian | the defence of 'disputed rights, and to wage the hor- rors of his barbarous war | against our brethren ? My lords, these enormities^" cry aloud | for redress and punishment. But, my lords, this barbarous measure | has been defended, not only | on the principles of policy and necessity, but also | on those of morality ; " for it is perfectly allowable," says Lord Suffolk, " to use all the means | which God and nature have put into our hands." I am astonished, I am shocked, to hear such principles confessed; to hear them avowed** in this house, or in this country. * Accumulate, collect together. | Impotent, weak. + Mercenary, hired. § Adversary, an opponent, an enemy. II Rapine, plunder, violence. ff Enormities, great crimes, acts of great wickedness. ** Avowed, declared openly. 58 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Section 4. My lords, I did not intend to encroach* so much | on your attention, but I cannot repressf my indignation — I feel myself impelled to speak. My lords, we are called upon | as mem- bers of this house, as men, as Christians, to protest against such horrible barbarity ! — " That God and nature have put into our hands !" What ideas of God and nature | that lord may entertain, I know not ; but T know, that such detestable prin- ciples | are equally abhorrent | to religion and humanity. What ! to attribute the sacred sanction of God and nature | to the massacres of the Indian scalp ing-knife ! to the cannibal]: sav- age, torturing, murdering, devouring his mangled victims! Such notions | shock every precept of morality, every feeling of humanity, every sentiment of honor. These abominable principles, and this more abominable avowal of them, demand the most decisive indignation. Section 5. I call upon that right reverend, and this most learned bench, to vindicate the religion of their God, to support the justice of their country. I call upon the bishops | to interpose the un- sullied§ sanctity of their lawn ; upon the judges to interpose the purity of their ermine, to save us from this pollution. | I call upon the honor of your lordships, to reverence the digni- ty of your ancestors, and to maintain your own. I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to vindicate the national character. I invoke the genius of the constitution. To send forth the merciless cannibal, thirsting for blood ! against whom ? — your Protestant brethren ! — to lav waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their race and name, by the aid and instrumentality | of these horrible hounds of war! Spain | can no longer boast pre-eminence || in barbarity. She | armed herself with bloodhounds, to extir- pated the wretched natives of Mexico ; we, more ruthless, loose these dogs of war | against our countrymen in America, endeared to us | by every tie ] that can sanctify** humanity. * Encroach, intrude. || Pre-eminence, superiority, t Repress, restrain. If Extirpate, root out, destroy. % Cannibal, one that eats human flesh. ** Sanctify, to make sacred. $ Unsullied, not stained, pure. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 59 I solemnly call upon your lordships, and upon every order of men | in the state, to stamp | upon this infamous procedure | the indelible* stigmaf | of the public abhorrence. More particularly, I call upon the holy prelates! of our religion | to do away this iniquity; let them perform a lustration, to purify the country | from this deep and deadly sin. My lords, I am old and weak, and at present unable to say more ; but my feelings and indignation | were too strong to have said less. I could not have slept this night in my bed, nor even reposed my head | upon my pillow, without giving vent | to my eternal abhorrence of such enormous§ | and preposterous|| principles. THIRTY-SEVENTH LESSON. SPEECH IN FAVOR OF WAR WITH ENGLAND. Patrick Henry. Section 1. Mr. President, it is natural to man | to indulge in the illu- sionsir of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes J ag-ainst a pain- ful truth, and listen to the song of that ^n,** till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduousff struggle ** liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things | which so nearly concern our tem- poral 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. I have but one lamp, by which my feet are guided ; and that | is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future | but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know j what there has been | in the conduct of the British ministry | for the last ten years, to justify those hopes | with which gentlemen have been pleased to solaceJJ them- selves and the house. Is itthatinsidious§§ smile | with which * Indelible, that cannot be blotted out. IT Elusions, deceptive appearances. t Stigma, mark of disgrace. ** Siren, a goddess noted for singing. t Prelates, archbishops, or bishops. tt -Arduous, difficult. § Enormous, very wicked. %% Solace, comfort. {! Preposterous^ absurd. §§ Insidious, deceptive. 60 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. our petition | has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves | how this gracious re- ception of our petition | comports with those warlike prepara- tions I which cover our waters and darken our land. Are 1 fleets and armies | necessary to a work of love and reconcilia- tion ? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled, that force must be called in | to win back our love ? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These | are the imple- ments* of war and subjugation ;f the last arguments | to which kings resort. Section 2. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martialt array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission ? Can gentlemen as- sign any other possible motive for it ? Has Great Britain | any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumu- lation of navies and armies ? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us : they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains, which the British ministry | have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to thorn ? Shall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that | for iKq last ten years. Have we any- thing new to offer upon the subjeci ? Nothing. We have held the subject up | in every light | of which it is capable ; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty | and humble supplication ! What terms shall we find | which have not already been ex- hausted ? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything | that could be done, to avert the storm | which is now coming on. We have pe- titioned, we have remonstrated,:]: we have supplicated, we have prostrated ourselves | before the throne, and have im- plored its interposition | to arrest the tyrannical hand of the ministryandparliament,|| Our petitions have been slighted; — . * Implements, instruments. f Subjugation, the act of conquering or enslaving. t Martial, warlike. $ Remonstrate, to urge reasons against, to expostulate. |j Parliament, the legislature of Great Britain, composed of the House of Lords and the House of Commons. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 61 our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult ; our supplications have been disregarded ; and we have been spurned with contempt | from the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, 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 Ave mean to preserve inviolate* those inestimable privileges | for which we have been so long contending, if we mean not basely to abandon the noble strug- gle | in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon | until the glorious object of our contest | shall be obtained, we must fight; I re- peat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us ! Section 3. 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 next week, or the next year ? Will it be | when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be sta- tioned in every house ? Shall we gather strength by irresolu- tion and inaction ? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive f phantomj of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us | hand and foot ? Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use | of those means | which the God of nature | hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that | which we possess, are invincible by any force | which our enemy | can send against us. Besides, we 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 bat- tle, sir, is not to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant,^ the ac- tive, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we are base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery. * Inviolate, uninjured. § Presides over, controls, directs, f Delusive, deceptive. |j Destinies, fates, X Phantom, apparition, ghost. 17 Vigilant, watchful. 6 62 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard | on the plains of Boston. The war is inevitable,* and let it come ! I repeat it, sir, let it come ! It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry peace, peace ! but there is no peace ! The war is actually begun! The next gale | that sweeps from the- north | will bring to our ears | the clash of resounding arms ! Our 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. * * * * I know not what course others may take ; but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death ! THIRTY-EIGHTH LESSON. SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS IN FAVOR OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE D. Webster. Section 1. Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand and my heart | to this vote ! It is true, indeed, that, in the be- ginning, we aimed not at independence. But there is a Divin- ity which shapes our ends. The injustice of England | has driven us to arms ; and, blinded to her own interest, for our good | she has obstinately persisted, till independence | is now within our grasp. We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why, then, should we defer the declaration ? Is any man so weak | as now to hope for a reconciliation with Eng- land, which shall leave either safety to the country and its liberties, or safety to his own life, and his own honor ? Are not you, sir, who sit in that chair ; is not he, our venerable colleague! near you; are not both already the proscribed! and predestined§ objects of punishment and of vengeance ? Cut off from all hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the power of England remains, but outlaws ? * Inevitable, unavoidable, \ Colleague, partner in office. + Proscribed, doomed, condemned. § Predestined, predetermined, determined beforehand. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 63 Section 2. If we postpone independence, do we mean to carry on, or give up, the war ? Do we mean to submit to the measures of Parliament, Boston port-bill and all ? Do we mean to submit, and consent | that we ourselves shall be ground to powder, and our country | and its rights | trodden down in the dust ? I know we do not mean to submit. We never shall submit. Do we intend to violate that most solemn obligation | ever en- tered into by men — that plighting,* before God, of our sacred honor to Washington, when, putting him forth to incur the dangers of war, as well as the political hazardsf of the times, we promised to adhere to him, in every extremity, with our fortunes and our lives ? Section 3. I know there is not a man here, who would not rather see a general conflagration | sweep over the land, or an earthquake sink it, than one jot | or tittle | of that plighted faith fall to the ground. For myself, having twelve months ago, in this place, moved you, that George Washington be appointed commander of the forces, raised, or to be raised, for defence of American liberty, may my right hand forget its cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate or waver | in the support I give him. The war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. Section 4. And if the war must go on, why put off longer the declara- tion of independence ? That measure will strengthen us. It will give us character abroad. The nations will then treatf with us, which they never can do, while we acknowledge our- selves subjects | in arms against our sovereign. Nay, I mam- tain that England, herself will sooner treat for peace with us | on the footing of independence, than consent, by repealing§ her acts,j| to acknowledge that her whole conduct towards us | has been a course of injustice and oppression. Her pride will be less wounded | by submitting to that course of things | * Plighting, pledging. § Repealing, annulling, making void, t Hazards, dangers. || Acts, laws. i Treaty negotiate, transact national business. 64 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. which now predestines our independence, than by yielding the point in controversy | to her rebellious subjects. The for- mer she would regard | as the result of fortune ; the latter | she could feel | as her own deep disgrace. Why then, why then, sir, do we not, as soon as possible, change this from a civil* | to a national war? And, since we must fight it through, why not put ourselves in a state to enjoy all the benefits of victory, if we gain the victory ? Section 5. If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we shall not fail. The cause | will raise up armies ; the cause I will create navies. The people, the people, if we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry themselves, gloriously through this struggle. I care not how fickle other people have been found. I know the people of these colonies ; and 1 know | that resistance to British aggressionf | is deep and settled in their hearts, and cannot be eradicated. Every colony, indeed, has expressed its willingness to follow, if we but take the lead. Sir, the decla- ration will inspire the people with increased courage. Instead of a long and bloody war | for restoration of privileges, for re- dress of grievances, for chartered! immunities, § held under a British king, set before them the glorious object of entire inde- pendence, and it will breathe into them anew | the breath of life. Section 6. Read this declaration at the head of the army ; every sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow uttered, to maintain it, or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish it from the pulpit ; religion will approve it, and the love of reli- gious liberty | will cling round it, resolved to stand or fall with it. Send it to the public halls ; proclaim it there ; let them hear it, who heard the first roar of the enemy's cannon ; let them see it, who saw their brothers and their sons | fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and in the streets of Lexington and Con- cord — and the very walls | will cry out in its support. * Civil war, a war between people of the same country. t Aggression, acts of violence. \ Chartered, granted by a king, or legislature. § Immunities, privileges. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 65 Section 7. Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs ; but I see clear- ly through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to see the time | when this declaration shall be made good. We may die ; die, colonists ; die, slaves ; die, it may be, ignominiously, and on the scaffold. Be it so. Be it so. If it be the pleasure of heaven | that my country shall re- quire the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready | at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But, while I do live, let me have a country, or at least the hope of a country, and that a free country. Section 8. But, whatever may be our fate, be assured | that this decla- ration | will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood ; but it will stand, and it will richly compensate for both. Through the thick gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the future, as the sun in heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in our graves, our children will honor it. They will celebrate it, with thanksgiv- ing, with festivity, with bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return | they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. — All that I have, and all that t am, and all that I hope, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it; and I leave off as I began, that live or die, survive or perish, I am for the declaration. It is my living sentiment, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my dying sentiment; — INDEPENDENCE NOW ; aild INDEPENDENCE FOR EVER ! 66 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. THIRTY-NINTH LESSON. America. — C. Phillips. Section 1. The mention of America | has never failed to fill me | with the most lively emotion. In my earliest youth, that tender season | when impressions, at once the most permanent and the most powerful, are likely to be excited, the story of her then recent struggle [ raised a throb in every heart | that lov- ed liberty, and wrung a reluctant tribute | even from, discom- fited oppression. I saw her spurning alike the luxuries that would enervate,* and the legions | that would intimidate ;f dashing from her lips | the poisoned cup of European servi- tude ; and, through all the vicissitudes^ of her protracted§ con- flict, displaying a magnanimity|| j that defied misfortune, a moderation | that gave new grace to victory. It was the first vision of my childhood ; it will descend with me to the grave. * * * * * * * * ■ Section 2. Search creation round, where can you find a country | that presents so sublime a view, so interesting an anticipation ? What noble institutions ! What a comprehensive policy !1T What a wise equalization of every political advantage ! The oppressed of all countries, the martyrs** of every creed, ft the innocent victims}:]: of despotic arrogance§§ or superstitious frenzy, || || may there find a refuge ; his industry encouraged, his piety respected, his ambition animated ; with no restraint | but those laws, which are the same to all, and no distinction but * Enervate [accented on the second syllable], deprive of strength or vigor, weaken. f Intimidate, make fearful, frighten. X Vicissitudes, changes. § Protracted, lengthened. || Magnanimity, greatness of mind. H Policy, system of government. ** Martyrs, those who are put to death for their opinions. tt Creed, belief. XX Despotic, tyrannical, oppressive. §$ Arrogance, haughtiness. UII Frenzy, madness. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 67 that, which his merit may originate. Who can deny | that the existence of such a country | presents a subject for human con- gratulation ! Who can deny, that its gigantic advancement | offers a field for the most rational conjecture ! At the end of the next century,* if she proceeds f as she seems to promise, what a wondrous spectacle may she not exhibit ! Who shall say | for what purpose | a mysterious Providence may not have designed her ! Who shall say | that when, in its follies or its crimes, the old world may have interred! a ^ tne pride of its power, and all the pomp of its civilisation, human nature | may not find its destined renovationt in the new ! Section 3. For myself, I have no doubt of it. I have not the least doubt, that when our temples and our trophies | shall have mouldered into dust — when the glories of our name | shall be but the legend§ of tradition, and the light of our achieve- ments | only live in song, philosophy will rise again | in the sky of her Franklin, and glory rekindle | at the urn of her Washington. Is this the vision of a romantic fancy? Is it even improbable ? Is it half so improbable as the events, which | for the last twenty years | have rolled like successive || tides | over the surface of the European world, each erasinglf the impression | that preceded it ? Thousands upon thousands, Sir, I know there are, who will consider this supposition | as wild and whimsical; but they have dwelt | with little reflection | upon the records of the past. They have but ill-observed the never-ceasing progress of national rise | and national ruin. They form their judgment | on the deceitful stability of the present hour, never consid- ering the innumerable monarchies and republics, in former days, apparently as permanent, their very existence | become now the subjects of speculation** — I had almost said, of scep- ticism, ff Section 4. I appeal to History ! Tell me, thou reverend chronicler^ of * Cent ury, a hundred years. IT Erasing, blotting out. t Interred, buried. ** Speculation, consideration. t Renovation, renewal. ff Scepticism, doubt* § Legend, fable. ^ Chronicler, historian. il Successive, following in order. 68 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. the grave, can all the illusions of ambition realized, can all the wealth of an universal commerce, can all the achievements of successful heroism, or all the establishments of this world's wisdom, secure to empire the permanency of its possessions ? Alas ! Troy thought 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 were vainly intended to commemorate. So thought Palmyra — where is she ? So thought the countries of Demosthenes and the Spartan, yet Leonidas | is trampled | by the timid slave, and Athens insulted | by the servile, mindless,* and enervatef Ottoman. In his hurried march Time has but look- ed | at their imagined immortality^ — and all their 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 and neglected | in the barren ocean, now rivals the ubiquity§ of their commerce, the glory of their arms, the fame of their philosophy, the eloquence of their senate, and the in- spiration of their bards ! Who shall say, then, contemplating the past, that England, proud and potent | as she appears, may not one day be what Athens is, and the young America | yet soar to be what Athens was ? FORTIETH LESSON. Section 1. My brave associates — partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame ! — can Rolla's words add vigor | to the virtuous ener- gies | which inspire your hearts ? — No ! — You have judged as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea | by which these bold invaders | would delude you. Your generous spirit | has com- pared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can animate their minds and ours. * Mindless, heedless, ignorant. X Immortality, endless existence, t Enervate, powerless. § Ubiquity, existence everywhere. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 69 They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plun- der, and extended rule ; — we, for our country, our altars,* and our homes. They follow an adventurer | whom they fear, and obey a power | which they hate : — we serve a monarch whom we love — a God whom we adore. Where'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress ! Where'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns their friendship. Section 2. They boast | they come but to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error ! — yes : — they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves j the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protection — Yes, such protection as vultures give to lambs — covering and devouring them ! They call on us | to barter all the good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something better | which they promise. Be our plain answer this : — The throne we honor | is the people's choice — the laws we reverence | are our brave fathers' legacy f — the faith we follow | teaches us to live in bonds of charity | with all mankind, and die with hope of bliss | beyond the grave. Tell your invaders this, and tell them, too, we seek no change ; and, least of all, such change as they would bring us. FORTY-FIRST LESSON. Washington. — C. Phillips. Section 1. Allow me to add one flower to the chapletj which, though it sprang in America, is no exotic. § Virtue planted it, and it is naturalized everywhere. I see you anticipate me — I see you concur with me, that it matters very little what -spot may be the birth-place of such a man as Washington. No people can claim, no country can appropriate him. The boon|| of Provi- dence to the human race, his fame is eternity, and his resi- * Altar, a place for sacrifice or worship. § Exotic, a foreign plant. t Legacy, what is left by will. || Boon, a gift. t Chaplet, a wreath of flowers. 70 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. dence 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 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 ! Section 2. In the production of Washington, it does really appear | as if Nature was endeavoring to improve upon herself, and that all the virtues of the ancient world | were but so many studies pre- paratory to the patriot of the new. Individual instances, no doubt there were, splendid exemplifications* of some singular qualification : Csesar was merciful, Scipio was continent, Han- nibal was patient; 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 master. As a general, he marshalled the peasant f into a veteran, { and supplied by discipline | the absence of experience ; 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. the statesman, he almost added the character of the sage !|| A conqueror, he was untainted with the crime of blood ; a revolutionist, he was free from any stain of treason ; for aggression commenced the contest, and his country called him to the command. Liberty unsheathed his sword, necessity stained, victory re- turned it. . If he had paused here, history might have doubted | what station to assign him : whether at the head of her citi- zens or her soldiers, her heroes, or her patriots. But the last glorious act crowns his career, and banishes all hesitation. Section 3. Who, like Washington, after having emancipated a hemi- * Exemplifications, illustrations by examples. § Cabinet, a council room. t Peasant, one who labors in the country. || Sage, a wise man. X Veteran, an old soldier. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 71 sphere, resigned its crown, and preferred the retirement of domestic life | to the adoration of a land he might be almost said to have created ! " How shall we rank thee upon Glory's page, Thou more than soldier, and just less than sage? All thou hast been reflects less fame on thee, Far less than all thou hast forborne to be !" Such, sir, is the testimony of one not to be accused of par- tiality | in his estimate of America. Happy, proud America ! The lightnings of heaven | yielded to your philosophy ! The temptations of earth | could not seduce your patriotism. FORTY-SECOND LESSON. SCOTLAND. Fldgg. Section 1. Statesmen — scholars — divines — heroes and poets — do you want exemplars* worthy of study and imitation ? Where will you find them brighter than in Scotland ? Where can you mid them purer than in Scotland ? Here no Solon, indulging imagi- nation, has pictured the perfectibility}- of man. No Lycurgus, viewing him through the medium of human frailty alone, has left for his government an iron code}: graven on eternal adamant. § No Plato, dreaming in the luxurious gardens of the Academy, has fancied what he should be, and bequeathed a republic of love. But sages, knowing their weakness, have appealed to his understanding, cherished his virtues, and chastised his vices. Friends of learning ! would you do homage | at the shrine of literature ? Would you visit her clearest founts ? — Go to Scot- land. Are you philosophers, seeking to explore the hidden mysteries of mind ? — Bend to the genius of Stewart ! Student, merchant, or mechanic, do you seek usefulness? — Consult the pages of Black and of Adam Smith. Grave barrister ! would you know the law — the true, the sole expression of the people's will ? — There stands the mighty Mansfield ! * Exemplars, patterns, models. % Code, a system of laws. t Perfectibility, capacity for becoming perfect. $ Adamant, a very hard stone. 72 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Section 2. Servants of Him, whose name is above every other name, and not to be mentioned — recur to days | that are past: to days | that can never be blotted from the history of the church. Visit the mountains of Scotland ; contemplate the stern Came- ronian, the rigid covenanter, the enduring puritan. Follow them to their burrows | beneath the earth; to their dark, bleak caverns in the rocks. See them hunted like beasts of prey. See them emaciated,* worn with disease, clung with famine — yet laboring | with supernatural! zeal — in feeding the hungry | with that bread | which gives life for ever more. Go view them, and when you preach faith, hope, charity, fortitude and long-suffering — forget them not; the meek, the bold, the patient, gallant Puritans of Scotland. Land of the mountain, the torrent and dale ! — Do we look for high examples | of noble daring? Where shall we find them brighter than in Scotland ? From the " bonny J highland heather" § of her lofty summits, to the modest lily of the vale, not a flower | but has blushed with patriot blood. Section 3. From the proud foaming crest of Solway, to the calm polish- ed breast of Loch Katrine, not a river or lake but has swelled with the life-tide of freemen ! Would you witness greatness ? — Contemplate a Wallace and a Bruce. They fought not for honors, for party, for conquest. 5 Twas for their country and their country's good ; religion, liberty and law. Would you ask for chivalry? — that iligh and delicate sense of honor, which deems a stain upon one's country — as individual dis- grace ; that moral courage | which measures danger, and meets it against known odds ; that patriot valor, which would rather repose | on a death -bed of laurels | than flourish in wealth and power | under the night-shade of despotism ?— Citizen soldier, turn to Lochiel ; " proud bird of the mountain !" Though pierced with the usurper's|| arrow, his plumage still shines | * Emaciated, reduced in flesh, lean. t Supernatural, being beyond the laws of nature, miraculous. X Bonny, beautiful. § Heather, a plant, bearing a beautiful flower. II Usurper, one who takes possession wrongfully. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 73 through the cloud of oppression, lighting to honor all | who nobly dare to "do or die." Where then can we better look | for all that is worthy of honest ambition, than to Scotland ? FORTY-THIRD LESSON. THE QUEEN OF FRANCE. Burke. Section 1. It is now sixteen or seventeen years | since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness,* at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, de- corating and cheering the elevated sphere | she just began to move in — glittering like the morning star ; full of life, and splen- dor, and joy. Oh ! what a revolution ! and what a heart must I have, to contemplate | without emotion that elevation | and that fall ! Little did I dream | that when she added titles of veneration | to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote f against dis- grace | concealed in that bosom ; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters heaped upon her — in a nation of gallant men ; in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers.f I thought ten thousand swords | must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a look | that threatened her with insult. Section 2. But the age of chivalry§ | is gone. That of sophisters,[| eco- nomists, and calculators, has succeeded ; and the glory of Eu- rope | is extinguished for ever. Never, never more, shall we behold that generous loyaltylF to rank and sex, that proud sub- * Dauphiness, a female relative of the King of France, who, by law, is entitled to succeed him or become a queen after his death. ^Antidote, remedy. % Cavaliers, knights, gallant and noble men. $ Chivalry, knighthood, the dignity of a knight. 1 Sophisters, artful, deceptive reasoners. fl Loyalty, fidelity, regard, usually it signifies fidelity to the king. 7 74 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. mission, that dignified obedience, that subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom. The unbought grace of life, the cheap defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enterprise — is gone ! It is gone, that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honor, which felt a stain like a wound; which inspired courage, whilst it mitigated ferocity ; which ennobled whatever it touch- ed ; and under which vice itself | lost half its evil, by losing all its grossness. FORTY-FOURTH LESSON. NATIONAL GLORY. Clay. Section 1. We are asked, what have we gained by the war ? I have shown | that we have lost nothing | in rights, territory, or honor ; nothing | for which we ought to have contended, ac- cording to the principles of the gentlemen | on the other side, or according to our own. Have we gained nothing by the war ? Let any man | look at the degraded condition of this country | before the war, the scorn of the universe, the con- tempt of ourselves, and tell me | if we have gained nothing by the war. What is our present situation ? Respectability and character abroad, security and confidence at home. If we have not obtained, in the opinion of some, the full measure of retribution, our character and constitution | are placed on a solid basis,* never to be shaken. The glory | acquired by our gallant tars, by our Jacksons and our Browns on the land — is that nothing ? True, we had our vicissitudes: there were humiliating events | which the patriot cannot review | without deep regret — but the great ac- count, when it comes to be balanced, will be found vastly in our favor. Is there a man | who would obliterate | from the proud pages of our history | the brilliant achievements of Jack- son, Brown, and Scott, and the host of heroes | on land and sea, whom I cannot enumerate ? Is there a man | who could not * Basis, foundation. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 75 desire a participation ] in the national glory acquired by the war ? Yes, national glory, which, however the expression may be condemned by some, must be cherished by every genuine patriot. Section 2. What do I mean | by national glory ? Glory such as Hull, Jackson, and Perry | have acquired. And are gentlemen in- sensible to their deeds — to the value of them | in animating the country | in the hour of peril hereafter ? Did the battle of Ther- mopylae | preserve Greece but once ? Whilst the Mississippi | continues to bear the tributes of the Iron Mountains and the Alleghanies J to her Delta and to the Gulf of Mexico, the eighth of January | shall be remembered, and the glory of that day | shall stimulate future patriots, and nerve the arms of unborn freemen | in driving the presumptuous invader | from our country's soil. .. Gentlemen may boast of their insensibility* to feelings inspir- ed | by the contemplation of such events. But I would ask, does the recollection of Bunker's Hill, Saratoga, and Yorktown, afford them no pleasure ? Every act of noble sacrifice to the country, every instance of patriotic devotion to her cause, has its beneficial influence. A nation's character | is the sum of its splendid deeds ; they constitute one common patrimony,! the nation's inheritance. They awe foreign powers — they arouse and animate our own people. I love true glory. It is this sen- timent | which ought to be cherished ; and, in spite of cavils, and sneers, and attempts to put it down, it will finally conduct this nation | to that height | to which God | and nature | have destined it. FORTY-FIFTH LESSON. the necessity of union. — Webster. Section 1. I profess, sir, in my career hitherto, to have kept | steadily in view | the prosperity and honor of the whole country, and the preservation of our federal union.}: It is to that union | we * Insensibility, want of feeling, indifference. f Patrimony, an estate derived from a father or other ancestor. t Federal union, [here] signifies the union of the United States, 76 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. owe our safety at heme, and our consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that union | that we are chiefly indebted | for whatever makes us most proud of our country. That union we reached, only by the discipline of our virtues, in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin | in the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under its benign* influences, these great interests | immediate- ly awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth | with newness of life. Every year of its duration | has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility | and its blessings ; and | although our ter- ritory | has stretched out, wider and wider, and our population spread farther and farther, they have not outrun its protection, or its benefits. It has been to us all | a copious fountain of national, social, and personal happiness. I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the union, to see what might lie hidden | in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds | that unite us together | shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself | to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below ; nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor | in the affairs of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how the Union should be best preserved, but how tolerable might be the condition of the people | when it shall be broken up and destroyed. Section 2. While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Be- yond that | I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant, that on my vision never may be opened | what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining | on the broken and dis- honored fragments | of a once glorious union ; on states dis- severed,! discordant, belligerent ;i on a land rent with civil§ feuds, || or drenched, it may be, in fraternaK blood ! Let their * Benign, kind, generous. § Civil, being in our own country, t Dissevered, divided. \\ Feuds, quarrels, contentions. t Belligerent, carrying on war. 1 Fraternal, of brothers. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 77 last feeble and lingering glance, rather, behold the gorgeous* ensignf of the republic, now known and honored | throughont the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies stream- ing | in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured — bearing | for its motto, no such miser- able interrogatory as — What is all this worth ? Nor those other words of delusion and folly — liberty first, and union afterwards, but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment dear to every true American heart — liberty and union, now and for ever, one and insepa- rable !f FORTY-SIXTH LESSON. THE IMPORTANCE OF PRESERVING OUR FORM OF GOVERN- MENT. — Webster* Section 1. Sir, in our endeavors to maintain our existing forms of gov- ernment, we are acting | not for ourselves alone, but for the great cause of constitutional liberty | all over the globe. We are trustees, holding a sacred treasure, in which all the lovers of freedom have a stake. Not only in revolutionized France, where there are no longer subjects, where the monarch can no longer say, he is the state ; not only in reformed England, where our principles, our institutions, our practice of free gov- ernment | are now daily quoted and commended ; but in the depths of Germany, and among the desolate fields, and the still smoking ashes of Poland, prayers are uttered | for the pre- servation of our union | and happiness. We are surrounded, sir, by a cloud of witnesses. The gaze of the sons of liberty, everywhere, is upon us, anxiously, intently, upon us. It may see us fall | in the struggle for our constitution ] and govern > ment, but heaven forbid | that it should see us recreant. * Gorgeous, splendid. % Inseparable, that cannot be separated, t Ensign, flag. 78 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Section 2. At least, sir, let the star bf Massachusetts be the last [ which shall be seen to fall from heaven, and to plunge | into the utter darkness of disunion. Let her shrink back, let her hold others back, if she can ; at any rate | let her keep herself back from this gulf, full, at once, of fire and | of blackness ; yes, sir, as far as human foresight can scan, or human imagination fathom, full of the fire and the blood of civil war, and of the thick darkness | of general political disgrace, ignominy* and ruin. Though the worst happen | that can happen, and though we be not able to prevent the catastrophe, f yet, let her maintain her own integrity, her own high honor, her own unwavering fidelity, so that | with respect and decency, though with a broken and a bleeding heart, she may pay the last tribute | to a glorious, departed, free constitution. FORTY-SEVENTH LESSON. THE MONUMENT ON BUNKER'S HILL. — Webster. Section 1. We know | that the record of illustrious actions | is most safely deposited | in the universal remembrance | of mankind. We know, that if we could cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surface | could still contain but part of that, which, in an age of knowledge, hath already been spread over the earth, and which history charges herself | with making known to all future times. We know | that no inscription, on entablatures]: | less broad than the earth itself, can carry information of the events | we commemorate | where it has not already gone ; and that no structure | which shall not outlive the duration of letters | and knowledge among men,, can prolong the memorial. § But our object is, by this edifice, to show our deep sense of the value | and importance of the achievements | of our ances- * Ignominy, disgrace, infamy. t Catastrophe, calamity, disaster. % Entablature, a part of a column. § Memorial, something to preserve the remembrance. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 79 tors ; and | by presenting this work of gratitude to the eye, to keep alive similar sentiments, and to foster a similar regard, to the principles of the revolution. Human beings are composed not of reason only, but of imagination also, and sentiment ; and that is neither wasted nor misapplied, which is appro- priated to the purpose j of giving right direction to sentiments, and opening proper springs of feeling | in the heart. Section 2. Let it not be supposed | that our object is to perpetuate national hostility, or even to cherish a mere military spirit. It is higher, purer, nobler. We consecrate our work | to the spirit of national independence, and we wish | that the light of peace | may rest upon it for ever. We rear a memorial of our conviction | of the unmeasured benefit | which has been con- ferred on our land, and of the happy influences, which have been produced, by the same events, on the general interests of mankind. We come, as Americans, to mark a spot, which must be for ever dear | to us, and our posterity. We wish | that whosoever, in all coming time, shall turn his eyes hither, may behold | that the place is not undistinguished | where the first great battle of the revolution | was fought. We wish, that this structure | may proclaim the magnitude and import- ance of that event | to every class and every age. We wish, that infancy may learn the purpose of its erection | from maternal lips, and that weary and withered age | may behold it, and be solaced by the recollections | which it suggests. We wish, that labor may look up here, and be proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish, that, in those days of disaster, which, as they come upon all nations, must be expected to come on us also, desponding patriotism | may turn its eyes hither, and be assured | that the foundations of our national power | still stand strong. We wish, that this column, rising towards heaven | among the pointed spires of so many temples dedi- cated to God, may contribute also to produce, in all minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish finally, that the last object f on the sight of him | who leaves his native shore, and the first to gladden him | who revisits it, may be something | which shall remind him | of the liberty 60 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. and glory of his country. Let it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming ; let the earliest light of morning gild it, and parting day | linger and play upon its summit. FORTY-EIGHTH LESSON. THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON. Everett. Section 1. Some organization and preparation | had been made ; but, from the nature of the case, with scarce any effect | on the events of that day. It may be doubted, whether there was an efficient* order given | the whole day | to any body of men | as large as a regiment. It was the people, in their first capacity, as citizens and as freemen, starting from their beds at midnight, from their firesides | and their fields, to take their own cause | in their own hands. Such a spectacle is the height of the moral sub- lime ; when the want of everything | is fully made up | by the spirit of the cause ; and the soul within | stands in place of disci- pline, organization, resources. In the prodigious efforts of a vete- ran army, beneath the dazzling splendor of their array, there is something revolting | to the reflecting mind. The ranks are filled with the desperate, the mercenary, the depraved ; and iron slavery, by the name of subordination | merges the free will | of one hundred thousand men | in the unqualified despot- ism of one ; the humanity, mercy, and remorse | which scarce ever desert the individual bosom, are sounds without a mean- ing | to that fearful, ravenous, irrational monster of prey, a mercenary! army. Section 2. It is hard to say | who are most to be commiserated,}: the wretched people | on whom it is let loose, or the still more wretched people whose substance has been sucked out to nourish it | into strength and fury. But | in the efforts of the people, of the people struggling for their rights, moving, not in organized, disciplined masses, but in their spontaneous§ ac- tion, man for man, and heart for heart, — though I like not war * Efficient, producing effect. X Commiserated, pitied. t Mercenary, hired. $ Spontaneous, voluntary, free. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 81 | nor any of its works, — there is something glorious. They can then move forward without orders, act together without combination, and brave the flaming lines of battle, without in- trenchments* to cover, or walls to shield them. No dissolute camp | has worn off | from the feelings of the youthful soldier | the freshness of that home, where his mother and his sisters sit waiting, with tearful eyes and aching hearts, to hear good news from the wars ; no long service in the ranks of the con- queror | has turned the veteran's heart into marble ; their valor springs | not from recklessness, from habit, from indifference to the preservation of a life, knit by no pledges to the life of others; but in the strength J and spirit of the cause alone, they act, they contend, they bleed. In this they conquer. The people | always conquer. They always must conquer. Section 3. Armies | may be defeated ; kings | may be overthrown, and new dynastiesf | imposed by foreign arms | on an ignorant and slavish race, that care not | in what language | the covenant of their subjection runs, nor in whose name | the deed of their barter | and sale is made out. But the people | never invade ; and when they rise | against the invader, are never subdued. If they are driven from the plains, they fly to the mountains. Steep rocks and everlasting hills | are their castles ; the tangled 9 pathless thicket | their palisado;J and nature, — God, — is their ally. Now | he overwhelms the host of their enemies | beneath his drifting mountains of sand; now | he buries them beneath an atmosphere of falling snows ; he lets loose his tempests | on their fleets ; he puts a folly into their councils, a madness into the hearts of their leaders ; and he never gave, and never will give, a full and final triumph over a virtuous, gallant peo- ple, resolved to be free. * Intrenchments, fortifications made with trenches or ditches, t Dynasties, governments. X Palisado, fortification. 82 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. FORTY-NINTH LESSON. THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. Hdl/lieS. Section 1. It has been usual, on occasions like the present, to give a history of the wrongs endured by our fathers. But, my friends, we have prouder, and more ennobling recollections, connected with our revolution. They are to be found in the spirit display- ed by our fathers, when all their petitions had been slighted, their remonstrances despised, and their appeals to the generous sympathies of their brethren | utterly disregarded. Yes, my friends, theirs was that pure and lofty spirit of devoted patriot- ism, which never quailed beneath oppression, which braved all dangers, trampled upon difficulties, and in " the times which tried men's souls," taught them to be faithful to their principles, and to their country — true ; and which induced them | in the very spirit of that Brutus (whose mantle has fallen, in our own day, upon the shoulders of one so worthy to wear it) to swear on the altar of liberty — to give themselves up wholly | to their country. There is one characteristic, however, of the Ameri- can revolution, which, constituting, as it does, its living princi- ple, its proud distinction, and its crowning glory — cannot be passed over in silence. It is this — that our revolution had its origin, not so much in the weight of actual oppression, as in the great principle — the sacred duty, of resistance to the exer- cise of unauthorized power. Section 2. Other nations have been driven to rebellion | by the iron hand of despotism, the insupportable weight of oppression, which leaving men nothing worth living for, has taken away the fear of death itself, and caused them to rush | upon the spears of their enemies, or to break their chains upon the heads of their oppressors. But it was a tax of three-pence a pound upon tea, imposed without right, which was considered by our ancestors as a burden too grievous to be borne. And why ? Because they were men "who felt oppression's lightest finger as a mountain weight," and, in the fine language of that just SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 83 and beautiful tribute paid to their character by one, " whose praises will wear well" — they "judged of the grievance, by the badness of the principle, they augured* misgovernment at a dis- tance, and snuffed the approach of tyranny in every tainted breeze" — because they were men, who, in the darkest hour, could say to their oppressors, " we have counted the cost, and find nothing so deplorable as voluntary slavery," and who were ready to exclaim with the orator of Virginia, " give me liberty or give me death." Theirs was the same spirit which inspired the immortal Hampden to resist, at the peril of his life, the im- position of ship-money, not because, as remarked by Burke, " the payment of twenty shillings would have ruined his for- tune, but because the payment of half twenty shillings, on the principle on which it was demanded, would have made him a slave." It was the spirit of liberty which still abides on the earth, and whose home is in the bosoms of the brave — which but yesterday, in " beautiful France," restored their violated charter — which even now burns brightly on the towers of Bel- gium, and has rescued Poland from the tyrant's grasp — making their sons, aye, and their daughters too, the wonder and the ad- miration of the world, the pride and glory of the human race ! FIFTIETH LESSON. APPEAL IN BEHALF OF GREECE.— LiCLCey. Section 1. The calamities of unhappy Greece | are not only great, but without a parallel. Collect, my brethren, for a moment, the powers of your fancy, and fix them on that afflicted country. What a sad and revolting spectacle | stands before you ! The warrior repairs to the field of battle, not like his adversary, in "the pride and pomp and circumstance of glorious war" — but in the deep miseries | of poverty and consuming care : the ma- tron | and her lovely daughter | are torn from the sanctuary* of their home, driven into hopeless captivity, or forced into lonely deserts | to subsist on acorns, and seek a shelter from the storm, * Augured, foretold, foresaw. t Sanctuary, a sacred place. 84 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. in the caverns of the earth: the lisping infant, clinging with convulsive grasp | to its flying mother, is overtaken by the savage Turk, and slaughtered j without remorse; a country once verdant with vines, and olives, and generous crops, is blasted by the breath of war, and left " without agriculture, without commerce, and without arts :" the traces of a desolat- ing foe | are marked, not only on the site of lamented Scio, on the ramparts of Ipsara, Missolonghi, and the Acropolis ; but in every city, and village, and hamlet, and portion | of this devot- ed country. Section 2. The winds | which sweep along the fields, once blooming with groves, sacred to the Muses, and over the ruins of temples erected for the arts and sciences, bear | on their wings | the sighs of expiring widows, and moans of vanquished heroes, and the beseechings of starving infants ! And do you not, in the view of such a picture, yield to pity ? Oh, can there be a heart so hard, as to remain unmoved j by scenes so sad as these? No, exclaims the philanthropist: all— all I have, is at the service of this afflicted country ! And will not the scholar | respond in the same notes ? I am sure he will. There is not a living soul, who ever revelled on the creations of inspired fancy, or hung enchanted J upon the strains of oratory, or followed | with swelling and delicious ad- miration | the flowing periods of eloquence, or beheld the ma- gic transformation of the chisel, or the enrapturing beauties of the pencil, who does not feel himself indebted | to unhappy Greece. Oh Greece ! Venerated and beloved Greece ! Often have we, kneeling at thy shrine, rendered the homage of ad- miration | to thy transcendant genius ! It was thy maternal bosom | that nourished him, whose immortal song | has been the wonder of the world;— him, whose voice shook the throne of Macedon, controlled the passions of fierce democracy, and perpetuated | to the present moment | the power and soul of eloquence ;— him | who bodied forth forms of beauty | from the rugged rock, and gave them, as it were, sentiment and feeling; — him | whose moral science the virtuous still revere : — " For her seat is the bosom of God, and her voice the harmony of the world." SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 85 Section 3. Say, then, ye men of letters — shall Greece be given up ? — Shall the Turk still pollute the soil sanctified by the brightest genius ? desecrate the groves, the temples, and the porticoes, from which have issued living streams that have often laved and refreshed your souls ? extinguish the ethereal* fire which quickened the mighty mrnds of Burke, and Chatham, and Adams, and Henry ? Oh, ye who boast of refined and ele- vated minds, prove, I beseech you, the reality of your preten- sions by contributing to the redemption of a country, from whose brilliant genius you have derived your brightest orna- ments. ***** Oh, ye friends of liberty ! ye | who have been nursed in the lap of freedom, and cradled in the storms of emancipation,! will you not contribute j to the release of such a people? Will you look on, without concern, and see the sons of Sparta, of Athens, of Thermopylae, crushed beneath the sceptre of the Porte ? Will you make no effort | for their redemption ? Shall they still bend their neck | to the cruel yoke | for the want of your assistance ? Oh, if this be the fact, the time will come, when you will repent of your present apathy. When the sighs of expiring hope, the clank of chains binding the Greeks j to the car of tyranny, shall be wafted | over the wide wastes of the Atlantic, and sink into your reluctant ears, you will lament, (but, alas ! too late) the inglorious supmenessj | which had led to this result. If the cause of Greece be lost, the cause of liberty j will suffer. In permitting this event, you will descend | from your high position, and commence a preparation | for servitude and chains. When the Greek republic ] shall have ceased its struggles, and sunk into the iron grasp of Moslem tyranny, the current of civil liberty | will not improbably change its course, and the chill of death, striking to the heart of freedom, commence the dissolution j of our own govern- ment. * Ethereal, airy, heavenly. % Supineness, indolence. t Emancipation, act of setting free. 86 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. FIFTY-FIRST LESSON. ANCIENT ORATORY.— FordlJCe. It will not, I think, be pretended, that any of our public speakers | have often occasion to address more sagacious, learned, or polite assemblies, than those | which were com- posed of the Roman senate, or the Athenian people, in their most enlightened times. But it is well known | what great stress the most celebrated orators of those times | laid on action ; how exceedingly imperfect they reckoned eloquence | without it, and what wonders they performed | with its assist- ance ; performed upon the greatest, firmest, most sensible, and most elegant spirits | the world ever saw. I transport myself in imagination | to old Athens. I mingle with the popular assembly, I behold the lightning, I listen to the thunder of Demosthenes. I feel my blood thrilled, I see the auditory lost and shaken, like some deep forest | by a mighty storm. I am filled with wonder at such marvellous effects. I am hurried almost out of myself. In a little while, I endeavor to be more collected. Then I consider the orator's address. I find the whole inexpressible. But nothing strikes me more | than his action. I perceive the various passions | he would inspire, rising in him by turns, and working from the depth of his frame. Now he glows | with the love of the public; now he flames with indignation | at its enemies ; then he swells with disdain, of its false, indolent, or interested friends, anon he melts with grief | for its misfortunes ; and now he turns pale | with fear of yet greater ones. Every feature, nerve, and cir- cumstance about him is intensely animated; each almost seems | as if it would speak. I discern his inmost soul, I see it as only clad in some thin, transparent vehicle. It is all on fire. I wonder no longer | at the effects of such eloquence. I only wonder at their causes. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 87 FIFTY-SECOND LESSON. SPEECH DENYING THE RIGHT OF PARLIAMENT TO ENACT A LAW TO UNITE IRELAND AND ENGLAND. Plwflket. Section 1. I, in the most express terms, deny the competency of par- liament to do this act. I warn you, do not dare to lay your hand on the constitution — I tell you that if, circumstanced as you are, you pass this act, it will be a nullity, and that no man in Ireland | will be bound to obey it. I make the assertion deliberately — I repeat it, and I call on any man who hears me, to take down my words ; — you have not been elected | for this purpose — you are appointed to make laws | and not legisla- tures — you are appointed to act | under the constitution, not to alter it — you are appointed to exercise the functions of legis- lators, and not to transfer them — and if you do so, your act is a dissolution of the government — you resolve society into its original elements, and no man in the land | is bound to obey you. Yourselves you may extinguish, but parliament | you camiot extinguish — it is enthroned | in the hearts of the people — it is enshrined | in the sanctuary of the constitution — it is immortal | as the island | which it protects ; as well might the frantic suicide hope | that the act | which destroys his miserable body | should extinguish his eternal soul. Again, I therefore warn you, do not dare to lay your hands on the constitution ; it is above your power. Section 2. Sir, I do not say that the parliament | and the people, by mutual consent and co-operation, may not change the form of the constitution. But thank God, the people have manifested no such wish; so far as they have spoken, their voice is decidedly j against this daring innovation. You know | that no voice has been uttered in its favor, and you cannot be infatuated enough | to take confidence from the silence | which prevails in some parts of the kingdom ; if you know how to appreciate* that silence | * Appreciate, valne. 88 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. it is more formidable | than the most clamorous opposition — you may be rived and shivered by the lightning | before you hear the peal of the thunder ! But, sir, we are told | we should discuss this question | with calmness and composure. I am called on to surrender my birthright and my honor, and I am told I should be calm, composed. Section 3. National pride ! Independence of our country ! These, we are told by the minister, are only vulgar topics fitted for the meridian of the mob, but unworthy to be mentioned | in such an enlightened assembly as this ; they are trinkets | and gew- gaws fit to catch the fancy of childish and unthinking people | like you, sir, or like your predecessor in that chair, but utterly unworthy of the consideration of this house, or of the matured understanding of the noble lord | who condescends to instruct it ! * * We see a Perry re-ascending | from the tomb and raising his awful voice | to warn us | against the surrender of our freedom, and we see | that the proud and virtuous feelings | which warmed the breast of that aged and venerable man, are only calculated to excite the contempt | of this young philosopher, who has been transplanted | from the nursery to the cabinet, to outrage the feelings J and understanding of the country. FIFTY-THIRD LESSON. OBSTACLES TO THE EXTINCTION OF WAR. Chalmers. Section 1. The first great obstacle | to the extinction of war, is, the way in which the heart of man | is carried off from its barbarities | and its horrors, by the splendor of its deceitful accompani- ments. There is a feeling of the sublime | in contemplating the shock of armies, just as there is | in contemplating the devouring energy of a tempest ; and this so elevates and en- grosses the whole man, that his eye is blind | to the tears of bereaved parents, and his ear is deaf to the piteous moan of the dying, and the shriek of their desolated families. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 89 Section 2. There is a gracefulness | in the picture of a youthful warrior | burning for distinction on the field, and lured by this gene- rous aspiration | to the deepest of the animated throng, where, in the fell work of death, the opposing sons of valor | struggle for a remembrance and a name ; and this side of the picture | is so much the exclusive object of our regard, as to disguise | from our view | the mangled carcasses of the fallen, and the writhing agonies of the hundreds and the hundreds more | who have been laid on the cold ground, and left to languish j and to die. There no eye pities them. No sister is there | to weep over them. There no gentle hand | is present to ease the dying posture, or bind up the wounds, which, in the maddening fury of the combat, had been given and received | by the children of one common father. There death spreads its pale ensigns | over every countenance, and when night comes on, and darkness gathers around them, how many a despairing wretch | must take up with the bloody field | as the untented bed of his last sufferings, without one friend to bear the message of tenderness | to his distant home, without one companion to close his eyes ! Section 3. On every side of me | I see causes at work, which go to spread a most delusive coloring over war, to remove its shock- ing barbarities | to the background of our contemplations alto- gether. I see it in the history | which tells me of the superb appearance of the troops, and the brilliancy of their successive charges. I see it in the poetry | which lends the magic of its numbers | to the narrative* of blood, and transports its many admirers, as, by its images, and its figures, and its nodding plumes of chivalry, it throws its treacherousf embellishments! over a scene of legalized slaughter. I see it in the music | which represents the progress of the battle ; and where, after being inspired by the trumpet-notes of preparation, the whole beauty and tenderness of a drawing- * Narrative, recital, story. % Embellishments, ornaments, t Treacherous, faithless, false. 90 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. room [ are seen to bend | over the sentimental entertainment ; nor do I hear the utterance of a single sigh | to interrupt the death-tones of the thickening contest, and the moans of the wounded men | as they fade away upon the ear, and sink into lifeless silence. Section 4. All, all goes to prove | what strange and half-sighted crea- tures we are. Were it not so, war could never have been seen | in any other aspect | than that of unmingled hatefulness ; and I can look to nothing | but to the progress of Christian sentiment upon earth, to arrest the strong current j of its popu- lar and prevailing partiality for war. Then only will an impe- rious* sense of duty | lay the check of severe principle on all the subordinate tastes | and faculties of our nature. Then will glory be reduced to its right estimate, and the wakeful benevo- lence of the gospel, chasing away every spell, will be devoted to simple but sublime enterprises | for the good of the species. FIFTY-FOURTH LESSON. THE BATTLE AT MARATHON. Webster. When the traveller pauses on the plains of Marathon, what are the emotions | which strongly agitate his breast ; what is that glorious recollection | that thrills through his frame, and suffuses his eyes ? Not, I imagine, that Grecian skill and Grecian valor | were here most signally displayed ; but that Greece herself | was saved. It is because | to this spot, and to the event | which has rendered it immortal, he refers all the succeeding glories of the republic. It is because, if that day had gone otherwise, Greece had perished. It is because he perceives | that her philosophers and orators, her poets and painters, her sculptorsf and architects, J her government and free institutions, point backward to Marathon, and that their future existence | seems to have been suspended | on the con- * Imperious, commanding. t Sculptors, those who carve wood or stone into images. % Architects, chief builders. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION, 91 tingency, whether the Persian or Grecian banner should wave victorious | in the beams of that day's setting sun. And as his imagination kindles | at the retrospect, he is transported back | to the interesting moment : he counts the fearful odds of the contending hosts ; his interest for the result | overwhelms him ; he trembles | as if it was still uncertain, and seems to doubt | whether he may consider Socrates and Plato,* Demosthenes, t Sophocles,J and Phidias,§ as secure, yet, to himself j and to the world. FIFTY-FIFTH LESSON. reply to walpole.— Lord Chatham. Section 1. Sir, — The atrocious|| crime | of being a young man, winch the honorable gentleman has, with such spirit and decency, charged upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliatell nor deny; but content myself with wishing, that I may be one of those | whose follies may cease | with their youth, and not of that number | who are ignorant | in spite of experience. Whether youth can be imputed to any man | as a reproach, I will not, Sir, assume the province of determining ; but surely age | may become justly contemptible, if the opportunities | which it brings | have passed away "without improvement, and vice appear to prevail, when the passions have subsided.** Section 2. The wretch, who, after seeing the consequences of a thou- sand errors, continues still to blunder, and whose age has only added obstinacy to stupidity, is surely the object | either of abhorrence or contempt, and deserves not | that his grey hairs | should secure him from insult. Much more, Sir, is he to be abhorred, who, as he has advanced in age, has recededft from virtue, and become more wicked | with less temptation ; who prostitutes himself for money | which he cannot enjoy, and * Socrates and Plato, Grecian philosophers. || Atrocious, heinous, very wicked. t Demosthenes, a great orator. TT Palliate, cover, excuse. % Sophocles, a distinguished poet. ** Subsided, ceased. § Phidias, a sculptor. • tt Receded, gone back from. 92 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. spends the remains of his life | in the ruin of his country. But youth, Sir, is not my only crime ; I have been accused | of act- ing a theatrical* part. A theatrical part | may either imply some peculiarities of gesture, or a dissimulation! of my real sentiments, and an adoption of the opinions | and language cf another man. In the first sense, Sir, the charge is too trifling to be con- futed ; and deserves only to be mentioned, that it may be des- pised. I am at liberty, like every other man, to use my own language ; and though, perhaps, I may have some ambition to please this gentleman, I shall not lay myself under any re- straint, nor very solicitously copy his diction or his mien, how- ever matured^ by age, or modelled by experience. But if any man shall, by charging me with theatrical behavior, imply, that I utter any sentiments but my own, I shall treat him as a calumniator,§ and a villain ; — nor shall any protection shelter him from | the treatment he deserves. Section 3. I shall, on such an occasion, without scruple, trample upon all those forms | with which wealth and dignity entrench themselves, — nor shall anything but age | restrain my resent- ment; age, which always brings one privilege, that of being insolent and supercilious, || without punishment. But with re- gard, Sir, to those | whom I have offended, I am of opinion, that if I had acted a borrowed part, I should have avoided their censure : the heat | that offended them, is the ardor of conviction, and that zeal for the service of my country, which neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress. I will not sit unconcerned | while my liberty is invaded, nor look in silence upon public robbery. I will exert my endeavors, at whatever hazard, to repel the aggressor, and drag the thief to justice, whoever may protect him | in his villainy, and who- ever may partake of his plunder. * TJieatrical, suiting a theatre. t Dissimulation, a concealing of real views or opinions. t J Matured, ripened, perfected. § Calumniator, slanderer. || Supercilious, haughty. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 93 FIFTY-SIXTH LESSON. ON BEING SENTENCED TO BANISH- MENT, — Croly. Banished from Rome ! what's banished but set free From daily contact of the things I loathe ? " Tried and convicted traitor !" — Who says this ? Who'll prove it, at his peril, on my head ? Banished ? — I thank you for 't. It breaks my chain ! I held some slack allegiance till this hour — But now my sword's my own. Smile on, my lords ; I scorn to count what feelings, withered hopes, Strong provocations, bitter, burning wrongs, I have within my heart's hot cells shut up, To leave you in your lazy dignities. But here I stand and scoff you : — here I fling Hatred and full defiance in your face. Your consul's merciful. For this all thanks. He dares not touch a hair of Catiline. " Traitor !" I go— but I return. This trial ! Here I devote your senate ! I've had wrongs, To stir a fever in the blood of age, Or make the infant's sinew strong as steel. This day's the birth of sorrows ! — This hour*s work Will breed proscriptions. — Look to your hearths, my lords, For there henceforth shall sit, for household gods, Shapes hot from Tartarus ! — all shames and crimes ; Wan treachery, with his thirsty dagger drawn ; Suspicion, poisoning his brother's cup ; Naked rebellion, with the torch and axe, Making his wild sport of your blazing thrones ;. Till anarchy comes .down on you like night, And massacre seals Rome's eternal grave. 94 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. FIFTY-SEVENTH LESSON THE RIGHT TO TAX AMERICA. Burke. Section 1. " But, Mr. Speaker, we have a right to tax America." Oh, inestimable right ! Oh, wonderful transcendent right ! the as- sertion of which | has cost this country thirteen provinces, six islands, one hundred thousand lives, and seventy millions of money. Oh, invaluable right ! for the sake of which | we have sacrificed our rank among nations, our importance abroad, and our happiness at home ! Oh, right ! more dear to us | than our existence, which has already cost us so much, and which seems likely to cost us our all. Infatuated man ! miserable and undone country ! not to know | that the claim of right, without the power of enforcing it, is nugatory and idle. We have a right to tax America, the noble lord tells us, therefore We ought to tax America. This is the profound logic | which comprises the whole chain of his reasoning. Section 2. Not inferior to this | was the wisdom of him | who resolved to shear the wolf. What, shear a wolf ! Have you considered the resistance, the difficulty, the danger of the attempt ? No, says the madman, I have considered nothing but the right. — Man has a right of dominion | over the beasts of the forest : and therefore I will shear the wolf. How wonderful — that a nation could be thus deluded ! But the noble lord deals in cheats and delusions. They are the daily traffic of his inven- tion ; and he will continue to play off his cheats on this house, so long as he thinks them necessary to his purpose, and so long as he has money enough | at command to bribe gentle- men | to pretend that they believe him. But a black and bitter day of reckoning | will surely come ; and whenever that day comes, I trust I shall be able, by a parliamentary impeachment,* to bring upon the heads of the authors of our calamities, the punishment they deserve. * Impeachment, uccusation by lawful authority. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 95 FIFTY-EIGHTH LESSON. BRUTUS ON THE DEATH OF CMSAR.— SkakspeCire. Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers ! — hear me for my cause; and be silent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor ; and have respect to mine honor, that you may believe. Cen- sure me in your wisdom ; and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. — If there be any | in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to hhn I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand | why Bru- tus rose against Caesar, this is my answer : not that I loved Cae- sar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves ; than that Caesar were dead, to live all freemen? — As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he "was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him ! There are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor for his valor, and death for his ambition !— Who's here so base, that would be a bondman ? if any, speak ! for him have I offended. Who's here so rude, that would not be a Roman ? if any, speak ! for him have I offended. Who's here so vile, that will not love his country ? if any, speak ! for him have I offended. — I pause for a reply. — None ? then none have I offended ! I have done no more to Caesar, than you should do to Brutus. The question of his death | is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy ; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. ***** With this I depart — that as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country | to need my death. 96 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. FIFTY-NINTH LESSON. RIENZl's ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS.— -*3HsS MltforcL Section 1. Friends, I come not here to talk. Ye know too well The story of our thraldom* : — we are slaves ! The bright sun rises to his course, and lights A race of slaves ! He sets, and his last beam [ Falls on a slave ; — not such as, swept along | By the full tide of power, the conqueror leads | To crimson glory and undying fame ; But base, ignoblef slaves — slaves to a horde Of petty tyrants, feudal despots, lords, Rich in some dozen paltry villages, Strong in some hundred spearmen — only great | In that strange spell, a name. Each hour, dark fraud, Or open rapine, or protected murder, Cries out against them. But this very day, An honest man, my neighbor — there he stands — Was struck — struck like a dog, by one | who wore The badge of Ursini ; because, forsooth, He tossed not high his ready cap in air, Nor lifted up his voice | in servile shouts, At sight of that great ruffian. Be we men, And suffer such dishonor ? men, and wash not The stain away in blood ? Such shames are common. Section 2. I have known deeper wrongs. I, that speak to you, I had a brother once, a gracious boy, Full of all gentleness, of calmest hope, Of sweet and quiet joy ; there was the look Of heaven upon his face, which limners give | To the beloved disciple. How I loved That gracious boy ! Younger by fifteen years, Brother at once and son ! He left my side, + ThraZdom, slavery. t Ignoble, mean. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 97 A summer bloom on his fair cheeks, a smile Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour, The pretty harmless boy was slain ! I saw The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried For vengeance ! Rouse, ye Romans : rouse, ye slaves ! Have ye brave sons ? Look, in the next fierce brawl, To see them die. Have ye daughters fair ? Look To see them live, torn from your arms ; * * * * * * And, if ye dare call for justice, Be answered by the lash. Yet this is Rome, That sat on her seven hills, and from her throne Of beauty, ruled the world ! Yet we are Romans ! Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman | Was greater than a king ! And once, again,— Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread Of either Brutus ! — once again, I swear, The eternal city | shall be free ! her sons | Shall walk with princes ! SIXTIETH LESSON. henry v. to his soldiers. — Shakspeare. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; Or close the wall up with the English dead ! In peace, there 's nothing so becomes a man, As modest stillness and humility : But when the blast ol war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger ; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage ; Then, lend the eye a terrible aspect ; Let it pry through the portage of the head Like tne brass cannon ! Now, set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide ; Hold hard the breath ; and bend up every spirit To its full height Now, on, you noblest English S Whose blood is fetch'd from fathers of war-proof ; Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders, 9 98 ELOCUTION MADE EASY, Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought, And sheathed their swords for lack of argument I I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. — The game 's afoot ! — Follow your spirit ; and, upon this charge, Cry, God for Harry, England, and St. George ! SIXTY-FIRST LESSON. reply to corry. — Grattan. Section 1. Has the gentleman done ? Has he completely done ? He was unparliamentary* from the beghining | to the end of his speech. There was scarce a word he uttered | that was not a violation of the privileges of the House. But I did not call him to order — Why ? because the limited talents of some men ren- der it impossible for them to be severe | without being unpar- liamentary. But before I sit down, I shall show him how to be severe and parliamentary! at the same time. On any other occasion, I should think myself justifiable | in treating with silent contempt anything | which might fall from that honorable member ; but there are times, when the insig- nificance of the accuser | is lost in the magnitude of the accu- sation. I know the difficulty | the honorable gentleman labor- ed under when he attacked me, conscious that, on a compara- tive view of our characters, public and private, there is noth- ing he could say which would injure me. The public would not believe the charge. I despise the falsehood. If such a charge were made by an honest man, I would answer it in the manner I shall do | before I sit down. But I shall first reply to it, when not made by an honest man. Section 2. The right honorable gentleman | has called me " an unim- peached traitor." I ask, why not " traitor," unqualified by an * Unparliamentary, contrary to the \isage of Parliament ; contrary to rules of debate. t Parliamentary^ according to the usage of Parliament ; according to rules of debate. SELECTIONS FOR DECLAMATION. 99 epithet ? I will tell him, it was because he durst not. It was the act of a coward, who raises his arm to strike, but has not courage to give the blow. I will not call him villain, because it would be unparliamentary, and he is a privy counsellor. I will not call him fool, because he happens to be Chancellor* of the Exchequer. f But I say, he is one who has abused the privilege of Parliament, and freedom of debate, by uttering language, which, if spoken out of the House, 1 should answer only with a blow. I care not how high his situation, how low his character, how contemptible his speech ; whether a privy counsellor or a parasite,}: my answer would be a blow. # He has charged me | with being connected with the rebels. The charge is utterly, totally, and meanly false. Does the honorable gentleman rely on the report of the House of Lords | for the foundation of his assertion ? If he does, I can prove to the committee, there was a physical impossibility of that report being true. But I scorn to answer any man for my con- duct, whether he be a political coxcomb, or whether he brought himself into power ] by a false glare of courage or not. Section 3. I have returned, not as. the right honorable member has said, to raise another storm — I have returned to discharge an honor- able debt of gratitude to my country, that conferred a great re- ward for past services, which, I am proud to say, was not greater than my desert. I have returned to protect that con- stitution, of which I was the parent and the founder, from the assassination of such men — as the right honorable gentleman, and his unworthy associates. They are corrupt — they are se- ditious — and they, at this very moment, are in a conspiracy against their country. I have returned to refute a libel, as false as it is malicious, given to the public | under the appellation of a report of the committee of the Lords. Here I stand ready for impeachment or trial. I dare accusation. I defy the honorable gentleman; I defy the government; I defy their whole phalanx : let them come forth. I tell the ministers, I will neither give them quarter nor take it. I am here to lay the shattered remains of my constitution j on the floor of this House, in defence of the liberties of my country. * Chancellar, a judge. J Parasite, a flatterer of the rich. t Exchequer, a court so called. 100 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. SIXTY-SECOND LESSON. THE INFLUENCE OF THE UNITED STATES UPON OTHER nations. — Webster. Section 1. Gentlemen, the spirit of human liberty | and free govern- ment | nurtured and grown into strength and beauty | in Ame- rica, has stretched its course | into the midst of the nations. Like an emanation* from heaven, it has gone forth, and it will not return void. It must change, it is fast changing, the face of the* earth. # Our great, our high duty, is to show j in our ex- amples, that this spirit | is a spirit of health | as well as a spirit of power; that its benignity is as great | as its strength ; that its efficiency | to secure individual rights, social relations, and moral order, is equal to the irresistible force | with which it prostrates principalitiesf and powers. The world, at this moment, is regarding us | with a willing, but something of a fearful admiration. Its deep and awful anxiety | is to learn, whether free states may be stable | as well as free ; whether popular power | may be trusted | as well as feared ; in short, whether wise, regular, and virtuous self-government | is a vision for the contemplation of theorists, or a truth established, illustrated, and brought into practice | in the country of Wash- ington. Section 2. Gentlemen, for the earth | which we inherit, and the whole circle of the sun, for all the unborn races of mankind, we seem to hold | in our hands, for their weal or wo, the fate of this experiment. If we fail, who shall venture the repetition ? If our example | shall prove to be one, not of encouragement, but of terror — not fit to be imitated, but fit only to be shunned — where else shall the world look | for free models ? If this great Western Sun | be struck out of the firmament, at what other fountain | shall the lamp of liberty | hereafter be lighted ? What other orb | shall emit a ray- to glimmer, even on the darkness of the world ? * Emanation, that which issues or proceeds, t Principalities, dominions of a prince. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 101 CHAPTER XII. SELECTIONS FOR READING. Note.— The sign of the rhetorical pause ( | ) is omitted in the following selections, as a due attention to it in the foregoing, will enable the pupil to make the proper pau- ses without it. SIXTY-THIRD LESSON. MIDNIGHT MUSINGS. W. Irving- I am now alone in my chamber. The family have long since retired. I have heard their steps die away, and the doors clap to after them. The murmur of voices and the peal of remote laughter no longer reach the ear. The clock from the church, in which so many of the former inhabitants of this house lie buried, has chimed the awful hour of midnight. I have sat by the window and mused upon the dusky land- scape, watching the lights disappearing one by one from the distant village ; and the moon rising in her silent majesty, and leading up all the silver pomp of heaven. As I have gazed upon these quiet groves and shadowing lawns, silvered over and imperfectly lighted by streaks of dewy moonshine, my mind has been crowded by K thick coming fancies" concerning those spiritual beings which -Walk the earth Unseen both when we wake and when we sleep." Are there, indeed, such beings ? Is this space between us and the Deity filled up by innumerable orders of spiritual beings, forming the same gradations between the human soul and divine perfection, that we see prevailing from humanity down to the meanest insect ? It is a sublime and beautiful doctrine inculcated by the early fathers, that there are guardian angels appointed to watch over cities and nations, to take care of good men, and to guard and guide the steps of helpless in- fancy. Even the doctrine of departed spirits returning to visit the scenes and beings which were dear to them during the bodies' existence, though it has been debased by the absurd 9* 102 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. superstitions of the vulgar, in itself is awfully solemn and sub- lime. However lightly it may be ridiculed, yet, the attention invo- luntarily yielded to it whenever it is made the subject of serious discussion, and its prevalence in all ages and countries, even among newly discovered nations that have had no pre- vious interchange of thought with other parts of the world, prove it to be one of those mysterious and instinctive beliefs, to which, if left to ourselves, we should naturally incline. In spite of all the pride of reason and philosophy, a vague doubt will still lurk in the mind, and perhaps will never be eradicated, as it is a matter that does not admit of positive de- monstration. Who yet has been able to comprehend and de- scribe the nature of the soul ; its mysterious connection with the body ; or in what part of the frame it is situated ? We know merely that it does exist : but whence it came, and when it entered into us, and how it is retained, and where it is seated, and how it operates, are all matters of mere speculation, and contradictory theories. If, then, we are thus ignorant of this spiritual essence, even while it forms a part of ourselves, and is continually present to our consciousness, how can we pre- tend to ascertain or deny its powers and operations, when re- leased from its fleshly prison-house ? Everything connected with our spiritual nature is full of doubt and difficulty. " We are fearfully and wonderfully made ;" we are surrounded by mysteries, and we are mysteries even to ourselves. It is more the manner in which this superstition has been degraded, than its intrinsic absurdity, that has brought it into contempt. Raise it above the frivolous purposes to which it has been applied, strip it of the gloom and horror with which it has been enveloped, and there is none, in the whole circle of visionary creeds, that could more delightfully elevate the imagination, or more tenderly affect the heart. It would become a sovereign comfort at the bed of death, soothing the bitter tear wrung from us by the agony of mortal separation. What could be more consoling than the idea, that the souls of those we once loved w r ere permitted to return and watch over our welfare ? — that affectionate and guardian spirits sat by our pillows when w T e slept, keeping a vigil over our most help- SELECTIONS FOR READING. 103 less hours ? — that beauty and innocence, which had languished into the tomb, yet smiled unseen around us, revealing them- selves in those blest dreams wherein we live over again the hours of past endearments ? A belief of this kind would, I should think, be a new incentive to virtue, rendering us cir- cumspect, even in our most secret moments, from the idea that those we once loved and honored were invisible witnesses of all our actions. It would take away, too, from that loneliness and destitu- tion, which we are apt to feel more and more as we get on in our pilgrimage through the wilderness of this world, and find that those who set forward with us lovingly and cheerily, on the journey, have one by one dropped away from our side. Place the superstition in this light, and I confess I should like to be a believer in it. — I see nothing in it that is incompatible with the tender and merciful nature of our religion, or revolting to the wishes and affections of the heart. There are departed beings that I have loved as I never again shall love in this world ; that have loved me as I never again shall be loved. If such beings do even retain in their blessed spheres the attachments which they felt on earth ; if they take an interest in the poor cojncerns of transient mortality, and are permitted to hold communion with those whom they have loved on earth, I feel as if I could receive their visitation with the most solemn but unalloyed delight. In truth, such visitations would be too happy for this world : they would take away from the bounds and barriers that hem us in and keep us from each other. Our existence is doomed to be made up of transient embraces and long separations. The most intimate friendship — of what brief and scattered por- tions of time does it consist ! We take each other by the hand ; and we exchange a few words and looks of kindness ; and we rejoice, together for a few short moments ; and then days, months, years intervene, and we have no intercourse with each other. Or if we dwell together for a season, the grave soon closes its gates, and cuts off all further communion; and our spirits must remain in separation and widowhood, until they meet again in that more perfect state of being, where soul shall dwell with soul, and there shall be no such thing as death, or absence, or any other interruption of our union 104 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. SIXTY-FOURTH LESSON. THE DYING ARCHER. R. C Water StOTl. The day has near ended, the light quivers through The leaves of the forest, which bend with the dew ; The flowers bow in beauty, the smooth-flowing stream, Is gliding as softly as thoughts in a dream ; The low room is darkened, there breathes not a sound, While friends in their sadness are gathering round ; Now out speaks the Archer, his course well nigh done, " Throw, throw back the lattice,* and let in the sun !" The lattice is opened ; and now the blue sky Brings joy to his bosom, and fire to his eye ; There stretches the greenwood, where, year after year, He " chased the wild roe-buck and followed the deer." He gazed upon mountain, and forest, and dell, Then bowed he, in sorrow, a silent farewell : " And when we are parted, and when thou art dead, Oh where shall we lay thee ?" his followers said. Then up rose the Archer, and gazed once again On far-reaching mountain, and river, and plai:_ ; " Now bring me my quiver,f and tighten my bow, And let the winged arrow my sepulchre show !" Out, out through the lattice, the arrow has passed, And in the far forest has lighted at last, And there shall the hunter in slumber be laid, Where wild-deer are bounding beneath the green shade. His last words are finished : his spirit has fled, And now lies in silence the form of the dead; The lamps in the chamber are flickering dim, And sadly the mourners are chanting their hymn ; And now to the greenwood, and now oil the sod, Where lighted the arrow, the mourners have trod ; And thus by the river, where dark forests wave, That noble old Archer hath found him a grave ! * Lattice, a window of grate-work. * Quiccr, a case lor arrows. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 105 SIXTY-FIFTH LESSON. the American flag. — J. R. Drake. When Freedom, from her mountain height, Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure* robe of night, And set the stars of glory there ; She mingled with the gorgeous dyes The milky baldricf of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white, With streakings of the morning light. Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle-bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land. Majestic monarch of the cloud, Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, To hear the tempest-trumpings loud, And see the lightning-lances driven, When strike the warriors of the storm And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven, — Child of the Sun, to thee 't is given, To guard the banner of the free, To hover in the sulphur smoke, To ward away the battle-stroke, And bid its blendings shine afar, Like rainbows on the cloud of war, The harbingerj of victory. Flag of the brave, thy folds shall fly, The sign of hope and triumph, high. When speaks the signal trumpet-tone, And the long line comes gleaming on (Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet, Has dimmed the glist'ning bayonet), * Azure, blue, sky-colored. t Baldric [pronounced bawldrik], a girdle. % Harbinger, forerunner. 106 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn To where thy meteor-glories burn, And, as his springing steps advance, Catch war and vengeance from the glance ; And, when the cannon-mouthings loud Heave, in wild wreaths, the battle -shroud, j And gory sabres rise and fall, Like shoots of name on midnight's pall ! There shall thy victor-glances glow, And cowering* foes shall shrink beneath Each gallant arm that strikes below That lovely messenger of death. Flag of the seas, on ocean's wave Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave, When death, careering on the gale, Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frightened waves rush wildly back, Before the broadside's reeling rack ; The dying wanderer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee, And smile to see thy splendors fly, In triumph, o'er his closing eye. Flag of the free hearts' only home, By angel-hands to valor given, Thy stars have lit the welkin f dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. For ever float that standard sheet ! Where breathes the foe, but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us ? * Cowering, stooping, shrinking. t Welkin dome, the sky, the regions of the air. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 107 SIXTY-SIXTH LESSON. THE ANGEL OF THE LEAVES. H. F. Gould. " Alas ! alas !" said the sorrowing tree, " my beautiful robe is gone ! It has been torn from me. Its faded pieces whirl upon the wind ! they rustle beneath the squirrel's foot, as he searches for his nut. They float upon the passing stream, and on the quivering lake. Wo is me ! for my fair green vesture is gone. It was the gift of the angel of the leaves ! I have lost it, and my glory has vanished ; my beauty has disappeared. My summer hours have passed away. My bright a.nd come- ly garment, alas ! it is rent in a thousand parts. Who will weave me such another ? Piece by piece, it has been stripped from me. Scarcely did I sigh for the loss of one, ere another wandered off on air. The sound of music cheers me no more. The birds that sang in my bosom were dismayed* at my desola- tion. They have flown away with their songs. " I stood in my pride, The sun brightened my robe with his smile. The zephyrsf breathed softly through its glassy folds ; the clouds strewed pearls among them. My shadow was wide upon the earth. My arms spread far on the gentle air; my head was lifted high; -my forehead was fair to the heavens. But now how changed ! Sadness is upon me ; my head is shorn, my arms are stripped ; I cannot throw a shadow on the ground. Beauty has departed ; gladness is gone out of my bosom ; the blood has retired from my heart, it has sunk into the earth. I am thirsty, I am cold. My naked limbs shiver in the chilly ai* The keen blast comes pitiless among them. The winter is coming; I am destitute. Sorrow is my portion. Mourning must wear me away. How shall I account to the angel who clothed me, for the loss of his beautiful gift ?" The angel had been listening. In soothing accents he an- swered the lamentation. " My beloved tree," said he, " be comforted ! I am by thee still, though every leaf has forsaken thee. The voice of glad- ness is hushed among the boughs, but let my whisper console thee. Thy sorrow is but for a season. Trust in me ; keep my * Dismayed, terrified. t Zephyrs, gentle west winds, 108 ELOCUTION MADE EASY, promise in thy heart. Be patient and full of hope. Let the words I leave with thee, abide and cheer thee through the coming winter. Then I will return and clothe thee anew. M The storm will drive over thee, the snow will sift through thy naked limbs. But these will be light and passing afflic- tions. The ice will weigh heavily on thy helpless arms ; but it shall soon dissolve in tears. It shall pass into the ground and be drunken by thy roots. Then it will creep up in secret beneath thy bark. It will spread into the branches it has op- pressed, and help me to adorn them. For I shall be here to use it. " Thy blood has now only retired for safety. The frost would chill and destroy it. It has gone into thy mother's bosom for her to keep it warm. Earth will not rob her offspring. She is a careful parent. She knows the wants of her children, and forgets not to provide for the least of them. " The sap that has for a while gone down, will make thy roots strike deeper and spread wider. It will then return to nourish thy heart. It will be renewed and strengthened. Then, if thou shalt have remembered and trusted in my promise, I will fulfil it. Buds shall shoot forth on every side of thy boughs. I will unfold for thee another robe. I will paint it and fit it in every part. It shall be a comely raiment. Thou shalt forget thy present sorrow. Sadness shall be swallowed up in joy. Now, my beloved tree, fare thee well for a season !* The angel was gone. The muttering winter drew near. The wild blast whistled for the storm. The storm came and howled around the tree. But the word of the angel was hidden in her heart; it soothed her amid the threatenings of the tempest. The ice cakes rattled upon her limbs ; they loaded and weighed them down. " My slender branches," said she, " let not this burden overcome you. Break not beneath this heavy affliction ; break not, but bend, till you can spring back to your places. Let not a twig of you be lost ! Hope must prop you up for a while, and the angel will reward your patience. You will move upon a softer air. Grace shall be again in your motion, and beauty hanging around you P J The scowling face of winter began to lose its features. The raging storm grew faint, and breathed its last. The restless SELECTIONS FOR READING. 109 clouds fretted themselves to atoms ; they scattered upon the sky, and were brushed away. The sun threw down a bundle of golden arrows. They fell upon the tree ; the ice cakes glittered as they came. Every one was shattered by a shaft, and unlocked itself upon the limb. They were melted and gone. The reign of spring had come. Her blessed ministers were abroad in the earth ; they hovered in the air ; they blended their beautiful tints, and cast a new created glory on the face of the heavens. The tree was rewarded for her trust. The angel was true to the object of his love. He returned ; he bestowed on her an- other robe. It was bright, glossy and unsullied.* The dust of summer had never lit upon it ; the scorching heat had not faded it; the moth had not profanedf it. The tree stood again in loveliness ; she was dressed in more than her former beauty. She was very fair ; joy smiled around her on every side. The birds flew back to her bosom. They sang on every branch a hymn to the Angel of the Leaves. SIXTY-SEVENTH LESSON. THE SONG OF THE ANGELS AT BETHLEHEM. J.Grdhame. Deep w T as the midnight silence in the fields Of Bethlehem ; hushed the folds ; save that at times Was heard the lambs' faint bleat ; the shepherds stretched On the green sward, surveyed the starry vault. " The heavens declare the glory of the Lord, The firmament shows forth thy handiwork ;" Thus they their hearts attuned to the most High ; When suddenly a splendid cloud appeared, As if a portion of the milky way Descended slowly in the spiral course ; Near and more near it draws ; then, hovering, floats High as the soar of eagles, shedding bright Upon the folded flocks a heavenly radiance. From whence was uttered loud, yet sweet, a voice : * Unsullied, not stained. t Profaned, injured. 10 110 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. " Fear not, I bring good tidings of great joy ; For unto you is born this day a Saviour ! And this shall be a sign to you : the babe Laid lowly in a manger ye shall find :" The angel spake, when, lo ! upon the cloud, A multitude of seraphim enthroned, Sang praises, saying, " glory to the Lord On high : on earth be peace, good will to men." With sweet response* harmoniously they choired ;f And while with heavenly harmony the song Arose to God, more bright the buoyant throng Illumed the land : the prowling lion stops, Awe-struck, with mane upreared, and flattened head ; And without turning, backward on his steps Recoils,! aghast, into the desert gloom. A trembling joy the astonished shepherds prove, As heavenward re-ascends the vocal blaze Triumphantly ; while by degrees the strain Dies on the ear, that self-deluded, listens, As if a sound so sweet could never die. SIXTY-EIGHTH LESSON. life : an allegory.— J] G. Percival. It is now Morning. Still and glassy lies the lake, within its green and dew-sprent§ shores. Light mist hangs around, like a skiey veil, and only reveals the uncertain outlines of woods and hills. The warm vemal|| air is just stirring in the valleys, but has not yet ruffled the water's mirror. Turn the eye upward — the misty vault opens into the calm, clear heavens, over which there seems suffused^ a genial** spirit's breath. Far distant on the horizon flash out the gilded and reddening peaks ; and from yonder crown of snow, a sudden radiance announces the risen sun. Now in the east stream the golden rays through the soft * Response, answer. || Vernal, belonging to spring. t Choired, sung in a choir. IF Suffused, overspread. % Recoils, rushes back. ** Genial, cheerful. $ Sprent, sprinkled. SELECTIONS FOR READING. Ill blue vapor. The breeze freshens, and comes loaded with fra- grance from the woods. A faint, dark curl sweeps over the water ; the mist rolls up, lifts itself above meadow and hill, and in gathered folds hangs light around the mountains. Away on the level lake, till it meets the sky, silvery gleams* the sheeted wave, sprinkled with changeful stars, as the ever-rising breeze breaks it in ripples. Now the pennonf that hung loose around the mast rises and fitfully floats. We spread the sail, and, cast- ing off from the shore, glide out with cheerful hearts on our voyage Before us widens the lake ; rock after rock receding back on either hand, and opening between, still bays, hung round with sparkling woods, or leading through green meadow vistas to blue sunny hills. It is now Noon. In the middle lake speeds the bark over light- glancing waves. Dark opens down the clear depth. White toss the crests of foam, — and, as the sail stoops to the steady wind, swift flies the parted water round the prow, and rushing pours behind the stern. The distant shores glow bright in the sun, that alone in the heaven looks unveiled with vivifying^ goodness over the earth. How high and broad swells the sky ! The agitated lake tosses like a wide field of snowy blossoms. Sweep after sweep of the long-retiring shores — hill gleaming over hill, up to the shadowy mountains — and over these Alpine§ needles, shooting pearly white into the bound- less azure || — all lie still and happy under the ever-smiling sun. And now it is Evening. The sun is sinking behind the dark mountains, and clouds scattered far in the east float soft in rosy light. The sun is now hidden, and strong and wide sweeps up its golden flame, like the holy blaze of a funeral pile. The breeze slackens — the waves subside in slumber — and slowly the bark steers into its sheltering bay. Long shadows stretch from hill to valley — fall like dark curtains on the lake — and a solemn, subdued serenity broods, like a protecting spirit," over the hush- ed and quiet earth. Only the far summits yet retain their brightness. Faint blushes stain the eternal snows, recalling the * Gleams, shines with sudden flashes of light. t Pennon, a small flag. % Vivifying, making alive, animating. § Alpine, belonging to the Alps. il Azure, blue color, the sky. 112 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. first dawning roses, like the memory of early joys in the tran- quil moments of departing age. These, too, fade; but the evening star looks bright from the blue infinite, and, like the herald* of a better world, leads us softly to our haven. SIXTY-NINTH LESSON. the cloud. — Shelley. I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noon-day dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet birds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, ! As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast ; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast. Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers, Lightning my pilot sits ; In a cavern under, is fettered the thunder, It struggles and howls at fits ; Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii f that move In the depths of the purple sea : Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, The spirit he loves remains ; * Herald, a harbinger, forerunner. t Genii, imaginary beings of a grade between men and angels. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 113 And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile, Whilst he is dissolving in rains. The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, And his burning plumes outspread, Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, When the morning star shines dead. As on the jag of a mountain crag, Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings. And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, Its ardors of rest and of love, And the crimson pall of eve may fall From the depth of heaven above, With wings folded I rest, on mine airy nest, As still as a brooding dove. That orbed maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer ; And I laugh to see them whirl and flee, Like a swarm of golden bees, When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas, Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, Are each paved with the moon and these. I bind the sun's throne with a burning zone, And the moon's with a girdle of pearl ; The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl. From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape, Over a torrent sea, Sunbeam proof, I hang like a roof, The mountains its columns be, 10* 114 ELOCUTION MADE EASY, The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire and snow, When the powers of the air are chained to my chair, Is the million-colored bow ; The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove, While the moist earth was laughing below. I am the daughter of earth and water, And the nursling of the sky ; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores : I change, but I cannot die. SEVENTIETH LESSON. the broken heart. — Washington Irving. Every one must recollect the tragical story of young E , the Irish patriot ; it was too touching to be soon forgotten. During the troubles in Ireland, he was tried, condemned and executed, on a charge of treason. His fate made a deep im- pression on public sympathy. He was so young — so intelli- gent — so generous — so brave — so everything that we are apt to like in a young man. His conduct under trial, too, was so lofty and intrepid. The noble indignation with which he re- pelled the charge of treason against his country — the eloquent vindication of his name — and his pathetic appeal to posterity, in the hopeless hour of condemnation — all these entered deeply into every generous bosom, and even his enemies lamented the stern policy that dictated his execution. But there was one heart, whose anguish it would be impos- sible to describe. In happier days and fairer fortunes, he had won the affections of a beautiful and interesting girl, the daughter of a late celebrated Irish barrister. She loved him with the disinterested fervor of a woman's first and early love. When every worldly maxim arrayed itself against him ; when blasted in fortune, and disgrace and danger darkened around his name, she loved him the more ardently for his very suffer- ings. If, then, his fate could awaken the sympathy, even of his foes, what must have been the agony of her whose whole soul was occupied by his image ! Let those tell who have SELECTIONS FOR READING. 115 had the portals of the tomb suddenly closed between them and the being they most loved on earth — who have sat at his thresh- old, as one shut out in a cold and lonely world, from whence all that was most lovely and loving had departed. But then the horrors of such a grave ! so frightful, so dis- honored ! There was nothing for memory to dwell on, that could soothe the pang of separation — none of those tender, though melancholy circumstances, that endear the parting scene — nothing to melt sorrow into those blessed tears, sent, like the dews of Heaven, to revive the heart in the parching hour of anguish. To render her widowed situation more desolate, she had in- curred her father's displeasure by her unfortunate attachment, and was an exile from the paternal roof. But could the sym- pathy and kind offices of friends have reached a spirit so shocked and driven in by horror, she would have experienced no want of consolation, for the Irish are a people of quick and generous sensibilities. The most delicate and cherishing at- tentions were paid her by families of wealth and distinction. She was led into society, and they tried by all kinds of occupa- tion and amusement to dissipate her grief, and wean her from the tragical story of her lover. But it was all in vain. There are some strokes of calamity that scathe and scorch the soul — that penetrate to the vital seat of happiness — and blast it, never again to put forth bud or blossom. She never objected to frequent the haunts of pleasure, but she was as much alone there as in the depths of solitude. She walked about in a sad reverie, apparently unconscious of the world around her. She carried with her an inward wo, that mocked at all the blan- dishments of friendship, and " heeded not the song of the charmer, charm he ever so wisely." The person who told me her story had seen her at a mas- querade. There can be no exhibition of far-gone wretchedness more striking and painful than to meet it in such a scene. To find it wandering like a spectre, lonely and joyless, where all around is gay — to see it dressed out in the trappings of mirth, and looking so wan and wo-begone, as if it had tried in vain to cheat the poor heart into a momentary forgetfulness of sor- row. After strolling through the splendid rooms and giddy 116 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. crowd with an air of utter abstraction, she sat herself down on the steps of an orchestra, and looking about for some time with a vacant air that showed her insensibility to the garish* scene, she began, with the capriciousness of a sickly heart, to warble a little plaintive air. She had an exquisite voice ; but on this occasion it was so simple, so touching, it breathed forth such a soul of wretchedness, that she drew a crowd mute and silent around her, and melted every one into tears. The story of one so true and tender, could not but excite great interest in a country remarkable for enthusiasm. It com- pletely won the heart of a brave officer, who paid his addresses to her, and thought that one so true to the dead could not but prove affectionate to the living. She declined his attentions, for her thoughts w T ere irrevocably engrossed by the memory of her former lover. He, however, persisted in his suit. He soli- cited not her tenderness, but her esteem. He w T as assisted by her conviction of his worth, and her sense of her own destitute and dependent situation ; for she was existing on the kindness of friends. In a word, he at length succeeded in gaining her hand, though with the solemn assurance that her heart was unalterably another's. He took her with him to Sicily, hoping that a change of scene might wear out the remembrance of early woes. She was an amiable and exemplary w T ife, and made an effort to be a happy one ; but nothing could cure the silent and devouring melancholy that had entered into her very soul. She wasted away in a slow but hopeless decline, and at length sunk into the grave, the victim of a broken heart. It was on her that Moore, the distinguished Irish poet, com- posed the following lines : She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps And lovers around her are sighing : But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying. She sings the wild songs of her dear native plains, Every note which he loved awaking — Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking ! * Garish, gaudy, showy. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 117 He had lived for his love — for his country he died, They were ail that to life had entwined him— Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him ! Oh ! make her a grave where the sunbeams rest, When they promise a glorious morrow ; They'll shine o'er her sleep, like a smile from the west, From her own loved island of sorrow ! SEVENTY-FIRST LESSON. THE PILGRIM FATHERS JollYl PierpOYiU The Pilgrim Fathers, — where are they ? The waves that brought them o'er Still roll in the bay, and throw their spray As they break along the shore : Still roll in the bay, as they roll'd that day When the Mayflower* moor'd below, When the sea around was black with storms, And white the shore with snow. The mists, that wrapped the Pilgrim's sleep, Still brood upon the tide ; And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep, To stay its waves of pride. But the snow-white sail, that he gave to the gale When the heavens look'd dark, is gone ; — As an angel's wing, through an opening cloud, Is seen, and then withdrawn. The Pilgrim exile, — sainted name ! The hill, whose icy brow Rejoiced when he came, in the morning's flame, In the morning's flame burns now. And the moon's cold light, as it lay that night On the hill-side aud the sea, Still lies where he laid his houseless head ; — But the Pilgrim, — where is he ? * Mayflower, a ship so called. 118 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. The Pilgrim Fathers are at rest ; When summer's throned on high, And the world's warm breast is in verdure* dress'd, Go, stand on the hill where they lie. The earliest ray of the golden day On that hallow'd spot is cast ; And the evening sun, as he leaves the world, Looks kindly on that spot last. The Pilgrim spirit has not fled ; It walks in noon's broad light ; And it watches the bed of the glorious dead, With their holy stars, by night. It watches the bed of the brave who have bled, And shall guard this ice-bound shore, Till the waves of the bay, where the Mayflower lay, Shall foam and freeze no more. SEVENTY-SECOND LESSON. a sketch. — New Yorker. The first sensation wrought in the Revolutionists was the surprise of disappointed confidence. I can well imagine to myself the shock that these early demonstrations of tyranny gave them. Impoverished by war, debilitatedf by exertion, their agriculture suffering, their commerce unsettled, their currency deplorable, they must have been apoplexed with astonishment at this rapid succession of cruelties from the Parent Empire. This past, and the bitter, sickening grief of wounded affection and outragedf weakness followed. Then came the wintry gloom and passive listlessness of despair. The young men quitted their places of industry to mourn with then- fathers, and all classes abandoned themselves for a season to the pressure of their wo. The curtain now rises, and reveals the first appearance of * Verdure, green color. t Outraged, treated with abuse or riolence. t Debilitated, weakened. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 119 Revolution. A man stands upon the floor of the House of Delegates of Virginia. He turns an eye of fire around him — he trembles with some mighty emotion. That emotion, reader, was the first breath of new-born Liberty ! She started into life at his inspiration, and the days of Tyranny were numbered ! The grandeur of that scene cannot be compassed* in one glance. He stood amid a grave and prudent body of men, conscious indeed of the wrongs of their country, but relying upon modest petition for redress. They had never let their imaginations ramble into visions of upright and chainless Independence. A thousand things forbade the idea. Their habits of thought and action, their pitiable weakness as a country, their disgust for war on account of recent and ex- hausting conflicts, all tended to indispose them for Freedom. They were, besides, legislating beneath the zealous eyes of royal deputies, who would not fail to call treason by its right name. They sat, as it were, under the glimmerings of the diadem. Who would dare, if so inclined, to stalk forth from their midst and throw down the gauntletf to the mightiest empire of the world — nay, to all the empires of the world — to prin- ciples as old as the great, globe itself, interwoven with every page of past history, sanctioned by venerable ages, and proud and awful as the heavens ? Who would dare to leap on the moss-grown and frowning ramparts of Monarchy, and pluck down its blood-red flag ? Who would rush out from the security of submission, and, Sampson-like, grasp the lion by his mane ? It was the grandest moment of time — but God had reared up one to fill it. That man was Patrick Henry. I will not tarry upon a scene where History has so often lingered, and always with a solemnity bordering on the superstitious. I would it never had been detailed, but rather left to the imagination of posterity. I had rather the attitude, gesture, look, tone, position and costume of the god-like orator, had never been matters of precise description. It serves too much (pardon my extravagance) to familiarize him down to the level of humanity. The Patrick Henry of that occasion should have been committed to the homage of Fancy. * Compassed, surrounded, fully viewed. t Throw down the gauntlet, to challenge. 120 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. I will close with but a word. He opened his lips. His heart, big with the destinies of the world, struggled for a moment with doubt — no longer. The electric appeal shot forth — darted on — flashing fiercer and brighter, and growing and growing in overwhelming majesty, until the last words — " Give me Liberty or give me Death !" — filled up its measure of terrible might ; and the last link of the chain that had eternal- ly bound the form of Freedom was riven. He had finished his sublime task, the Revolution was afoot ! SEVENTY-THIRD LESSON. the disembodied spirit. — Wm. O. B. Peabody. Oh ! sacred star of evening, tell In what unseen celestial* spheref Those spirits of the perfect dwell, Too pure to rest in sadness here. Roam they the crystal fields of light, O'er paths by holy angels trod ; Their robes with heavenly lustre bright, Their home the paradise of God ? . Soul of the just ! and canst thou soar Amid those radiant spheres sublime, Where countless hosts of heaven adore, Beyond the bounds of space or time ? And canst thou join the sacred choir, Through heaven's high dome the song to raise, When seraphs strike the golden lyre, In ever-during notes of praise ? Oh ! who would heed the chilling blast, That flows o'er time's eventful sea, If bid to hail, its perils past, The bright wave of eternity ? * Celestial, heavenly. t Sphere, globe, orb. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 121 And who the sorrows would not bear Of such a transient* world as this, When hope displays, beyond its care, So bright an entrance into bliss ? SEVENTY-FOURTH LESSON. COLONEL ISAAC HAYNES. After the city of Charleston had fallen into the hands of Lord Cornwallis,f his lordship issued a proclamation, requiring of the inhabitants of the colony that they should no longer take part in the contest, but continue peaceably at their homes, and they should be most sacredly protected in property and person. This was accompanied with an instrument of neutrality, which soon obtained the signatures of many thousands of trie citizens of South Carolina, among whom was Colonel Haynes, who now conceived that he was entitled to peace and security for his family and fortune. But it was not long before Cornwallis put a new construc- tion on the instrument of neutrality, denominating it a bond of allegiance^: to the king, and called upon all who had signed it to take up arms against the Rebels ! threatening to treat, as desert- ers those who refused ! This fraudulent proceeding of Lord Cornwallis roused the indignation of every honorable and honest man. Colonel Haynes now being compelled, in violation of the most solemn compact, to take up arms, resolved that the invaders of his native country should be the objects of his vengeance. He withdrew from the British, and was invested with a command in the continental service ; but it was soon his hard fortune to be captured by the enemy and carried into Charleston. Lord Rawdon, the commandant, immediately ordered him to be loaded with irons, and after a sort of mock trial, he was sentenced to be hung! This sentence seized all classes of people with horror and dismay, A petition, headed by the * Transient, passing away* J Mlagi&nce, duty of a anttfect to hii king- t Lord CornvjaZlia t a British commander. 11 122 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. British Governor Bull, and signed by a number of royalists, was presented in his behalf, but was totally disregarded. Tne ladies of Charleston, both whigs and tories, now united in a petition to Lord Rawdon, couched in the most eloquent and moving language, praying that the valuable life of Colonel Haynes might be spared ; but this also was treated with neglect. It was next proposed that Colonel Haynes's children (the mother had recently deceased) should, in their mourning habiliments,* be presented to plead for the life of their only surviving parent. Being introduced into his presence, they fell on their knees, and with clasped hands and weeping eyes they lisped their father's name and pleaded most earnestly for his life, but in vain : the unfeeling man was still inexorable ! His son, a youth of thirteen, was permitted to stay with his father in prison, who beholding his only parent loaded with irons and con- demned to die, was overwhelmed in grief and sorrow. " Why," said he, " my son, will you thus break your father's heart with unavailing sorrow ? Have I not often told you we came into this world to prepare for a better ? For that better life, my dear boy, your father is prepared. Instead then of weeping, rejoice with me, my son, that my troubles are so near an end. To-morrow I set out for immortality. You will accompany me to the place of my execution, and, when I am dead, take and bury me by the side of your mother." The youth here fell on his father's neck, crying, " my father ! my father ! I will die with you ! I will die with you !" Colonel Haynes would have returned the strong embrace of his son, but, alas ! his hands were confined with irons. " Live," said he, " my son, live to honor God by a good life, live to serve your country ; and live to take care of your little sisters and brother !" The next morning Colonel Haynes was conducted to the place of execution. His son accompanied him. Soon as they came in sight of the gallows, the father strengthened himself, and said — " Now, my son, show yourself a man ! Tliat tree is the boundary of my life, and of all my life's sorrows. Beyond that the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. Don't lay too * Habiliments, dresses. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 123 much to heart our separation from you ; it will be but short. It was but lately your dear mother died. To-day 1 die, and you, my son, though but young, must shortly follow us." " Yes, my father," replied the broken-hearted youth, " I shall shortly follow you ; for indeed I feel that I cannot live long." On seeing therefore his father in the hands of the executioner,* and then struggling in the halter, — he stood like one trans- nxedf and motionless with horror. Till then he had wept in- cessantly, but as soon as he saw that sight, the fountain of his tears was stanched, and he never wept more. He died insane, and in his last moments often called on the name of his father in terms that wrung tears from the hardest hearts. SEVENTY-FIFTH LESSON. SPIRIT OF FREEDOM. PerCWdl. Spirit of Freedom ! who thy home hast made In wilds and wastes, where wealth has never trod. Nor bowed her coward head before her god, The sordid deity of fraudful trade ; Where power has never reared his iron brow, And glared his glance of terror, nor has blown The maddening trump of battle, nor has flown His blood-thirst eagles ; where no flatterers bow, And kiss the foot that spurns them ; where no throne, Bright with the spoils from nations wrested, towers, The idol of a slavish mob, who herd, Where largess feeds their sloth with golden showers, And thousands hang upon one tyrant's word; — Spirit of Freedom ! thou, who dwell'st alone, Unblenched,}: unyielding, on the storm-beat shore, And flndest a stirring music in its roar, And lookest abroad on earth and sea thy own- Far from the city's noxious§ hold, thy foot Fleet as the wild deer bounds, as if its breath * Executioner, one who puts to death by law. t Unblenched, unshrinking, t Transfixed, pierced through. $ Noxious, hurtful, destructive, 124 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Were but the rankest, foulest steam of death ; Its soil were but the dunghill, where the root Of every poisonous weed and baleful tree Grew vigorously and deeply, till their shade Had choked and killed each wholesome plant, and laid In rottenness the flower of Liberty — Thou fliest to the desert, and its sands Become thy welcome shelter, where the pure Wind gives its freshness to thy roving bands, And languid weakness finds its only cure ; Where few then wants, and bounded their desires, And life all spring and action, they display Man's boldest flights, and highest, warmest fires, And beauty wears her loveliest array — Spirit of Freedom ! I would with thee dwell, Whether on Afric's sand, or Norway's crags, Or Kansa's prairies,* for thou lovest them well, And there thy boldest daring never flags ; Or I would launch with thee upon the deep, And like the petrel f make the wave my home, And careless as the sportive sea-bird roam ; Or with the chamoisj on the Alp would leap, And feel myself upon the snow-clad height, A portion of that undimmed flow of light, No mist nor cloud can darken — ! with thee, Spirit of Freedom ! deserts, mountains, storms, Would wear a glow of beauty, and their forms Would soften into loveliness, and be Dearest of earth, — for there my soul is free. * Prairies, extensive tracts of land destitute of trees. t Petrel, a water fowl. t Chamois (pronounced Shamoy), a kind of goat SELECTIONS FOR READING. 125 SEVENTY-SIXTH LESSON. LAKES AND THE OCEAN G, MelUn. There is ever a contrast between the lesser lakes and the great ocean. You can rarely, if ever, look npon the sea, when it is not heaving with the coming on, the height, or the dying of the tempest. There is always agitation within its mighty bosom. You see something at work there that tells of perpe- tual* unrestf — of a power within, that cannot be still. The sub- siding thunder of the storm that has passed away, is but the deep prelusive]: music of another. But go in midsummer to the lake, embosomed§ among the hills, and gaze upon it when all the elements are in slumber, and I know not that you will find in nature a more beautiful picture of repose. There is no heaving billow there — no crest- ed wave breaking in foam upon the shore — no sound of de- parted storm, murmuring like some vast imprisoned spirit at its temporary subjection. But you see there a surface, silent as death — and as placid. The water lies spread before you, a perfect mirror; and you see wooded summit and lonely vale — forest and field-tree and tower — cloud and sky, all gazing into its profound, as though enchanted with the loveliness of their own reflection. You see the beautiful and the grand mingling their wonders in solitude, and you feel how much more exquisite is the display, when it is perfected in the hour and home of Nature's quietness. Then, if you stand upon bank or shore at sunset, when its hundred hues are playing on the sky, and see the new heaven created in the depths below you, and witness its mockery of splendor, its fading colors and dying beams, till star begins to answer to star in the dark water, surely you are beholding something that Nature presents only in such hallowed spots in her empire — something of beauty and grandeur that she can never offer by the " vasty deep," — something — be it developed where it may, far beyond the witchery of the gifted pencil-^ something to rejoice in — something to be thankful for. * Perpetual, continual, never ceasing. % Prelusive, previous, serving to introduce, t Unrest, disquiet. § Embosomed^ enclosed. 11* 126 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. SEVENTY-SEVENTH LESSON. marco bozzaris. — Halleck. 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 signetf ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne — a king ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird. 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 : — " Strike — till the last armed foe expires, Strike — for your altars and your fires, Strike — for the green graves of your sires, God — and your native land !" They fought — like brave men, long and well, They piled that ground with Moslem slain ; They conquered — but Bozzaris fell, Bleeding at every vein. * Trophies, things taken in battle from an enemy. % Sentry, a soldier on guard, t Signet ring, a ring containing the king's seal. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 127 His few surviving comrades saw His smile when rang the 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. SEVENTY-EIGHTH LESSON. SUBLIMITY OF MOUNTAIN SCENERY. Croty. Of all the sights that nature offers to the eye and mind of man, mountains have always stirred my strongest feelings. I have seen the Ocean, when it was turned up from the bottom by tempest, and noon was like night, with the conflict of the billows and the storm, that tore and scattered them in mist and foam across the sky. I have seen the Desert rise around me, and calmly, in the midst of thousands uttering cries of horror and paralyzed by fear, have contemplated the sandy pillars, coming like the advance of some gigantic city of conflagration flying across the wilderness, every column glowing with in- tense fire, and every blast death; the sky vaulted with gloom, the earth a furnace. But with me, the mountain — in tempest or in calm, the throne of the thunder, or with the evening sun painting its delist and declivities^ in colors dipped in heaven — has been the source of the most absorbing sensations. — There stands magnitude, giv- ing the instant impression of a power above man — grandeur, that defies decay — antiquity, that tells of ages uimumbered — beauty, that the touch of time makes only more beautiful — use, exhaustless for the service of man — strength, imperishable as the globe ; — the monument of eternity, — the truest earthly em- blem of that ever-living, unchangeable, irresistible Majesty, by whom and for whom, all things were made ! * Paralyzed, deprived of motion. X Declivities, descents, slopes, t Dells, valleys. 128 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. SEVENTY-NINTH LESSON. MY MOTHER'S GRAVE. It was thirteen years since my mother's death, when, after a long absence from my native village, 1 stood beside the sacred mound, beneath which I had seen her buried. Since that mournful period, great changes have come over me. My childish years have passed away ; and with them have passed my youthful character. The world was altered too ; and as I stood at my mother's grave, I could hardly realize that I was the same thoughtless, happy creature, whose cheek she so often kissed in her 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 yesterday — as if the blessed sound of her voice was then in my ear. The gay dreams of my infancy and 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 circumstance may seem a trifling one ; but the thought of it, even now, agonizes my heart — and I relate it that those 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 become so much 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 had sobbed violently — for they told me that she would die ; but when, day after day, I returned from school, and found her the same, I began to believe she would always be spared to me. One day when I had lost my place in the class, and done my work wrong-side-outward, I came home discouraged and fretful. I went into my mother's chamber. She was paler than usual, — but she met me with the same affectionate smile that always welcomed my return. Alas ! when I look back through the lapse of thirteen years, I think my heart must have been stone, not to have been melted by ir. She requested me to go down stairs, and bring her a glass of water. I pettishly asked why she did not call the domestic to do it. With a look of mild reproach, which I shall never SELECTIONS FOR READING. 129 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 ?" I went and brought her the water : but I did not do it kindly. Instead of smiling, and kissing her as I was wont to do, I set the glass down very quick and left the room. After playing a short tune, I retired without bidding my mother " good night ;" but when alone in my room, in darkness and silence, I remembered how pale, she looked, and how her faint voice trembled, when she said, " Will not my daughter bring a glass of water for her poor sick mother r' I could not sleep ; and I stole into her chamber, to ask forgiveness. She had just sunk into an uneasy slumber ; and they told me I must not waken her. I did not tell any one what troubled me ; but stole back to my bed, resolved to rise early in the morning, and tell her how sorry I was for my conduct. The sun was shining brightly when I awoke, and hurrying on my clothes, I hastened to my mother's room. She was dead! She never spoke to me 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 it made me start. I bowed down by her side, and sobbed in the bitterness of my heart. I thought then I wished I could die, and be bmied 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 childish ingratitude. But I cannot call her back ; and when I stand by her grave, and whenever I think of her manifold* kindness, the memory of the reproachful look she gave me, will (i bite like a serpent and sting like an adder." EIGHTIETH LESSON. " i would not live alway." — W. Cutter. '■ It is true there are shadows as well as lights, clouds as well a3 sunshine, thorns as well as roses ; but it i3 a happy world after all." " I would not live alway !" — yet 'tis not that here There's nothing to live for, and nothing to love ; The cup of life's blessings, though mingled with tears, Is crowned with rich tokens of good from above : * Manifold, oft repeated. 130 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. 'And dark though the storms of adversity rise, Though changes dishearten, and dangers appal, Each hath its high purpose, both gracious and wise, And a Father's kind providence rules over all. " I would not live alway !" and yet, oh, to die ! With a shuddering thrill how it palsies the heart ! We may love, we may pant for, the glory on high, Yet tremble and grieve from earth's kindred to part. There are ties of deep tenderness drawing us down, Which warm round the heart-strings their tendrils will weave ; And Faith, reaching forth for her heavenly crown, Still lingers, embracing the friends she must leave. " I would not live alway !" because I am sure There's a better, a holier rest in the sky ; And the hope that looks forth to that heavenly shore, Overcomes timid nature's reluctance to die. visions of glory, of bliss, and of love, Where sin cannot enter, nor passion enslave, Ye have power o'er the heart, to subdue or remove The sharpness of death, and the gloom of the grave ! " I would not live alway !" yet 'tis not that time, Its loves, hopes, and friendships, cares, duties, and joys, Yield nothing exalted, nor pure, nor sublime, The heart to delight, or the soul to employ ; No ! an angel might oftentimes sinlessly dwell 'Mid the innocent scenes to life's pilgrimage given ; And though passion and folly can make earth a hell, To the pure 'tis the emblem and gate-way of heaven. " I would not live ahvay !" and yet, while I stay In this Eden of time, 'mid these gardens of earth, I'd enjoy the sweet flowers and fruits as I may, And gain with their treasures whate'er they are worth : 1 would live, as if life were a part of my heaven, I would love, as if love were a part of its bliss, And I'd take the sweet comforts, so lavishly given, As foretastes of that world, in portions, in this. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 131 " I would not live alway !" yet willingly wait, Be it longer or shorter, life's journey to roam, Ever ready and girded, with spirits elate, To obey the first call that shall summon me home. yes ! it is better, far better to go Where pain, sin, and sorrow can never intrude ; And yet I would cheerfully tarry below, And expecting the better, rejoice in the good. EIGHTY-FIRST LESSON. knowledge. — De Witt Clinton. Pleasure is a shadow, wealth is vanity, and power a pageant ;* but knowledge is ecstaticf in enjoyment, perennial}: in fame, unlimited in space, and infinite in duration. In the performance of its sacred office, it fears no danger, spares no expense, omits no exertion. It scales the mountain, looks into the volcano, dives into the ocean ; perforates§ the earth, wings its flight into the skies, encircles the globe, explores the sea and land, contemplates the distant, examines the minute, comprehends the great, ascends to the sublime : no place too remote for its grasp, no heavens too exalted for its reach. EIGHTY-SECOND LESSON. MOONLIGHT AND A FIELD OF BATTLE. Shelley. How beautiful this night ! the balmiest sigh Which vernal || zephyrs breathe in Evening's air, Were discord to the speaking quietude That wraps this moveless scene. Heaven's ebonir vault, Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy** which Love had spread, * Pageant, a pompous show. || Vernal, belonging to spring. t Ecstatic^ transporting, very delightful. IT Ebon, dark. % Perennial, durable, continual. ** Canopy, a covering spread over the head. § Perforates, bores or pierces through. 132 ELOCUTION MADE EASr. To curtain her sleeping world. Yon gentle hills, Robed in a garment of untrodden snow ; Yon darksome rocks, whence icicles depend, So stainless, that their white and glittering spires Tinge not the moon's pure beam ; yon castled steep, Whose banner hangeth o'er the time-worn tower So idly, that rapt fancy deemeth it A metaphor* of peace ; — all form a scene Where musing Solitude might love to lift Her soul above this sphere of earthliness ; Where Silence undisturbed might watch alone, So cold, so bright, so still ! The orb of day, In southern climes, o'er ocean's waveless field Sinks sweetly smiling : not the faintest breath Steals o'er the unruffled deep ; the clouds of eve Reflect unmoved the lingering beam of day ; And Vesper's f image on the western main Is beautifully still. To-morrow comes : Cloud upon cloud, in dark and deepening mass, Roll o'er the blackened waters ; the deep roar Of distant thunder mutters awfully ; Tempest unfolds its pinions o'er the gloom That shrouds the boiling surge ; the pitiless fiend, With all his winds and lightnings, tracks his prey ; The torn deep yawns — the vessel finds a grave Beneath its jagged J gulf. Ah ! whence yon glare That fires the arch of heaven ? — that dark red smoke Bloating the silver moon ? The stars are quenched In darkness, and the pure spangling snow Gleams faintly through the gloom that gathers round ! Hark to that roar, whose swift and deafening peals In countless echoes through the mountains ring, Startling pale Midnight on her starry throne ! Nor swells the intermingling din ; the jar, Frequent and frightful, of the bursting bomb ; * Metaphor, a similitude, resemblance. X Jagged, notched, uneven, t Vesper, the evening star, Venus. SELECTIONS FOR READING. 133 The falling beam, the shriek, the groan, the shout, The ceaseless clangor, and the rush of men Inebriate with rage ! — loud and more loud The discord grows ; till pale Death shuts the scene, And, o'er the conqueror and the conquered, draws His cold and bloody shroud. Of all the men Whom day's departing beam saw blooming there, In proud and vigorous health — of all the hearts That beat with anxious life at sunset there — How few survive, how few are beating now ! All is deep silence, like the fearful calm That slumbers in the storm's portentous pause ; Save when the frantic wail of widowed love Comes shuddering on the blast, or the faint moan With which some soul bursts from the frame of clay Wrapped round its struggling powers. The grey morn Dawns on the mournful scene ; the sulphurous smoke Before the icy wind slow rolls away, And the bright beams of frosty morning dance Along the spangling snow. There tracks of blood, Even to the forest's depth, and scattered arms, And lifeless warriors, whose hard lineaments Death's self could change not, mark the dreadful path Of the outsallying victors : far behind Black ashes note where their proud city stood. Within yon forest is a gloomy glen — Each tree which guards its darkness from the day, Waves o'er a warrior's tomb. EIGHTY-THIRD LESSON. ABSALOM.— Willis. The waters slept. Night's silvery veil hung low On Jordan's bosom, and the eddies curled Their glassy rings beneath it, like the still, Unbroken beating of the sleeper's pulse. The reeds bent down the stream : the willow leaves, 12 134 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. With a soft cheek upon the lulling tide, Forgot the lifting winds ; and the long stems, Whose flowers the water, like a gentle nurse, Bears on its bosom, quietly gave way, And leaned, in graceful attitudes, to rest. How strikingly the course of nature tells, By its light heed of human suffering, That it was fashioned for a happier world ! King David's limbs were weary. He had fled From far Jerusalem ; and now he stood, With his faint people, for a little rest Upon the shore of Jordan. The light wind Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow To its refreshing breath ; for he had worn The mourner's covering, and he had not felt That he could see his people until now. They gathered round him on the fresh green bank, And spoke their kindly words ; and, as the sun Rose up in heaven, he knelt among them there, And bowed his head upon his hands to pray. Oh ! when the heart is full — when bitter thoughts Come crowding thickly up for utterance, And the poor common words of courtesy Are such a very mockery — how much The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer ! He prayed for Israel ; and his voice went up Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those Whose love had been his shield ; and his deep tones Grew tremulous. But, oh, for Absalom — For his estranged, misguided Absalom — The proud, bright being, who had burst away, In all his princely beauty, to defy The heart that cherished him — for him he poured, In agony that would not be controlled, Strong supplication, and forgave him there, Before his God, for his deep sinfulness. ******* The pall was settled. He who slept beneath Was straightened for the grave ; and, as the folds SELECTIONS FOR READING. 135 Sunk to the still proportions, they betrayed The matchless symmetry* of Absalom. His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls Were floating round the tassels as they swayed To the admitted air, as glossy now As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing The snowy Angers of Judea's girls. His helm was at his feet : his banner, soiled With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid Reversed, beside him ; and the jewelled hilt, Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade, Rested, like mockery, on his covered brow. The soldiers of the king trod to and fro, Clad in the garb of battle ; and their chief, The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier, And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly, As if he feared the slumberer might stir. A slow step startled him. He grasped his blade As if a trumpet rang ; but the bent form Of David entered, and he gave command, In a low tone, to his few followers, And left him with his dead. The king stood still Till the last echo died : then, throwing off The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back The pall from the still features of his child, He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth In the resistless eloquence of wo ! — " Alas ! my noble boy ! that thou shouldst die ! Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair ! That death should settle in thy glorious eye, And leave his stillness in this clustering hair ! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb, My proud boy, Absalom ! " Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill, As to my bosom I have tried to press thee. How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, * Symmetry, proportion. 136 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. And hear thy sweet ' my father' from these dumb And cold lips, Absalom ! " The grave hath won thee. I shall hear the gush Of music, and the voices of the young ; And life will pass me in the mantling blush, And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung; — But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come To meet me, Absalom ! " And, oh ! when I am stricken, and my heart, Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, How will its love for thee, as I depart, Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token ! It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom, To see thee, Absalom ! " And now, farewell ! 'T is hard to give thee up, With death so like a gentle slumber on thee : — And thy dark sin ! — Oh ! I could drink the cup, If from this wo its bitterness had won thee. May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home, My erring Absalom !" He covered up his face, and bowed himself A moment on his child : then, giving him A look of melting tenderness, he clasped His hands convulsively, as if in prayer ; And, as a strength were given him of God, He rose up calmly, and composed the pall Firmly and decently, and left him there, As if his rest had been a breathing sleep. DIALOGUES. 1S7 DIALOGUES. EIGHTY-FOURTH LESSON. CHARLES II. AND WILLIAM PENN Charles. Well, friend William ! I have sold you a noble pro- vince in North America; but still I suppose you have no thoughts of going thither yourself. Penn. Yes, I have, I assure thee, friend Charles ; and I am just come to bid thee farewell. Char. What ! venture yourself among the savages of North America ! Why, man, what security have you that you will not be in their war-kettle hi two hours after setting foot on their shores ? Penn. The best security in the world. CJiar. I doubt that, friend William ; I have no idea of any security against those cannibals, but in a regiment of good sol- diers, with their muskets and bayonets. And mind I tell you beforehand, that, with ail my good will for you and your family, to whom I am under obligations, I will not send a sin- gle soldier with you. Penn. I want none of thy soldiers, Charles : I depend on something better than thy soldiers. Char. Ah ! and what may that be ? Penn. Why, I depend upon themselves — on the workings of their own hearts — on their notions of justice — on their moral sense. Char. A fine thing, this same moral sense, no doubt ; but I fear you will not find much of it among the Indians of North America. Penn. And why not among them, as well as others ? Char. Because, if they had possessed any, they would not have treated my subjects so barbarously as they have done. Penn. That is no proof to the contrary, friend Charles. Thy subjects were the aggressors. When thy subjects first went to North America, they found these poor people the fondest and kindest creatures in the world. Every day they would watch 12* 138 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. for them to come ashore, and hasten to meet them, and feast them on the best fish, and venison, and corn, which was all that they had. In return for this hospitality of the savages, as we call them, thy subjects, termed Christians, seized on their country and rich hunting-grounds, for farms for themselves ! Now, is it to be wondered at, that these much injured people should have been driven to desperation by such injustice ; and that, burning with revenge, they should have committed some excesses ? Char. Well, then, I hope you will not complain when they come to treat you in the same manner. Penn. I am not afraid of it, Char. Ah ! how will you avoid it ? You mean to get their hunting-grounds too, I suppose ? Penn. Yes, but not by driving these poor people away from them. Char. No, indeed ! How then will you get the lands ? Penn. I mean to buy their lands of them. Char. Buy their lands of them ! Why, man, you have already bought them of me. Penn. Yes, I know I have, and at a dear rate, too ; but I did it only to get thy good will, not that I thought thou hadst any right to their lands. Char. How, man ! no right to their lands ! Penn. No, friend Charles, no right at all : what right hast thou to their lands ? Char. Why, the right, of discovery, to be sure ; the right which the pope and all Christian kings have agreed to give one another. Penn. The right of discovery ! A strange kind of right, in- deed ! Now, suppose, friend Charles, that some canoe-loads of these Indians, crossing the sea, and discovering thy island of Great Britain, were to claim it as their own, and set it up for sale over thy head, — what WQUldst thou think of it? Char. Why — why — why — I must confess, I should think it a piece of great impudence in them. Penn, Well, then, how canst thou, a Christian, and a Chris- tian prince too, do that which thou so utterly eondemncst in these people, whom thou callest savages ? Yes, friend Charles; DIALOGUES. 139 and suppose, again, that these Indians, on thy refusal to give up thy island of Great Britain, were to make war on thee, and, having weapons more destructive than thine, were to destroy many of thy subjects, and drive the rest away, — wouldst thou not think it horribly cruel ? Char. I must say that I should, friend William i how can I say otherwise ? Penn, Well, then, how can I, who call myself a Christian, do what I should abhor even in heathen ? No, I will not do it. But I will buy the right of the proper owners, even of the In- dians themselves. By doing this, I shall imitate God himself, in his justice and mercy, and thereby insure his blessing on my colony, if I should ever live to plant one in North America. EIGHTY-FIFTH LESSON. CAPTAIN HARDY— NATHAN. AnOflt/mOUS. Nathan. Good morning, captain. How do you stand this hot weather ? Captain. Bless you, boy; it's a cold bath to what we had at Monmouth ? Did I ever tell you about that- are battle ? N. I have always understood that it was dreadful hot that day ! Cap. Bless you, boy, it makes my crutch sweat to think on't — and if I didn't hate long stories, I'd tell you things about that-are battle, sich as you wouldn't believe, you rogue, if I didn't tell you. It beats all natur how hot it was. N. I wonder you did not all die of heat and fatigue. Cap. Why, so we should, if the reg'lars had only died first ; but, you see, they never liked the Jarseys, and wouldn't lay their bones there. Now if I didn't hate long stories, I'd tell you all about that-are business, for you see they don't do things so now-a-days. N. How so ? Do not people die as they used to ? Cap. Bless you, no. It beat all natur to see how long the reg'lars w^ould kick after we killed them. JV r . What ! kick after they were killed ! That does beat all natur, as you say. 140 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Cap. Come, boy, no splitting hairs with an old continental, for you see, if I didn't hate long stories, I'd tell you things about this-are battle, that you'd never believe. Why, bless you, when gineral Washington telled us we might give it to 'em, we gin it to em, I tell you. N. You gave what to them ? Cap. Cold lead, you rogue. Why, bless you, we fired twice to their once, you see ; and if I didn't hate long stories, I'd tell you how we did it. You must know, the reg'lars wore their close-bodied red coats, because they thought we were afeared on 'em, but we did not wear any coats, you see, because we hadn't any. N. How happened you to be without coats ? Cap. W r hy, bless you, they would wear out, and the States couldn't buy us any more, you see, and so we marched the lighter, and worked the freer for it. Now if I did not hate long stories, I would tell you what the gineral said to me next day, when I had a touch of the rheumatiz from lying on the field without a blanket all night. You must know, it was raining hard just then, and we were pushing on like all natur arter the reg'lars. N. What did the gineral say to you ? Cap. Not a syllable, says he, but off comes his coat, and he throws it over my shoulders, " there, captain," says he, " wear that, for we can't spare you yet." Now don't that beat all natur, hey ? N. So you wore the general's coat, did you ? Cap. Lord bless your simple heart, no. I didn't feel sick arter that, I tell you. No, gineral, says I, they can spare me better than they can you, just now, and so I'll take the will for the deed, says I. N. You will never forget this kindness, captain. Cap. Not I, boy ! I never feel a twinge of the rheumatiz but what I say, God bless the gineral. Now you see, I hate long stories, or Pd tell you how I gin it to a reg'lar that tried to shoot the gineral at Monmouth. You know we were at close quarters, and the gineral was right between the two fires. N. I wonder he was not shot. Cap. Bless your ignorant soul, nobody could kill the gineral ; DIALOGUES. 141 but you see, a sneaking reg'lar didn't know this, and so he levelled his musket at him, and you see, I seed what he was arter, and I gin the gineral's horse a slap on the haunches, and it beats all natur how he sprung, and the gineral all the while as straight as a gun-barrel. N. And you saved the gineral's life. Cap. Didn't I tell you nobody could kill the gineral? but, you see, his horse was in the rake of my gun, and I wanted to get the start of that cowardly reg'lar. N. Did you hit him ? Cap. Bless your simple soul, does the thunder hit where it strikes ! though the fellow made me blink a little, for he car- ried away part of this ear. — See there ! {Showing his ear.) Now don't that beat all natur ? N. I think it does. But tell me, how is it that you took all these things so calmly? What made you so contented under your privations and hardships ? Cap. Oh, bless your young soul, we got used to it. Besides, you see, the gineral never flinched nor grumbled. N. Yes, but you served without being paid. Cap. So did the gineral ? and the States, you know, were poor as all natur. N. But you had families to support. Cap. Ay, ay, but the gineral always told us that God and our country would take care of them, you see. Now, if I didn't hate long stories, I'd tell you how it turned out just as he said, for he beat all natur for guessing right. N. Then you feel happy, and satisfied with what you have done for your country, and what she has done for you ? Cap. Why, bless you, if I hadn't left one of my legs at York- town, I wouldn't have touched a stiver of the States' money, and as it is, I am so old, that I shall not need it long. You must know, I long to see the gineral again, for if he don't hate long stories as bad as I do, I shall tell him all about America, you see, for it beats all natur how things have changed since he left us. 142 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. EIGHTY-SEVENTH LESSON. DIALOGUE ON PHYSIOGNOMY. Frank. It appears strange to me that people can be so im- posed upon. There is no difficulty in judging folks by their looks. I profess to know as much of a man, at the first view, as by a half dozen years' acquaintance. Henry. Pray, how is that done ? I should wish to learn such an art. Fr. Did you never read Lavater on Physiognomy ? Hen. No. What do you mean by such a hard word ? Fr. Physiognomy means a knowledge of men's hearts, thoughts, and characters, by their looks. For instance, if you see a man with a forehead jutting over his eyes like a piazza ; with a pair of eyebrows heavy like the cornice of a house ; with full eyes, and a Roman nose, — depend on it, he is a great scholar, and an honest man. Hen. It seems to me I should rather go below his nose, to discover his scholarship. jFV. By no means : if you look for beauty, you may descend to the mouth and chin ; otherwise never go below the region of the brain. Enter George. George. Well, I have been to see the man hanged. And he has gone to the other world, with just such a great forehead, and Roman nose, as you have always been praising. Fr. Remember, George, all signs fail in dry weather. Geor. Now, be honest, Frank, and own that there is nothing in all this science of yours. The only way to know men is by their actions. If a man commit burglary, think you a Roman nose ought to save him from punishment? Fr. I don't carry my notions so far as that; but it is certain that all the faces in the world are different ; and equally true that each has some marks about it, by which one can discover the temper and character of the person. DIALOGUES. 143 Enter Peter. Peter [to Frank]. Sir, I have heard of your fame from Dan to Beersheba ; that you can know a man by his face, and can tell his thoughts by his looks. Hearing this, I have visited you, without the ceremony of an introduction. Fr. Why, indeed, I profess something in that way. Pet. By that forehead, nose, and those eyes of yours, one might be sure of an acute, penetrating mind. Fr. I see that you are not ignorant of Physiognomy. Pet. I am not ; but still I am so far from being an adept in the art, that unless the features are very remarkable, I cannot determine with certainty. But yours is the most striking face I ever saw. There is a certain firmness in the lines which lead from the outer verge to the centre of the apple of your eye, which denotes great forecast, deep thought, bright inven- tion, and a genius for great purposes. Fr. You are a perfect master of the art. And to show you that I know something of it, permit me to observe, that the form of your face denotes frankness, truth, and honesty. Your heart is a stranger to guile, your lips to deceit, and your hands to fraud. Pet. I must confess that you have hit upon my true charac- ter, though a different one from what I have sustained in the view of the world. Fr. [to Henry and George.] Now see two strong examples of the truth of physiognomy. [ While he is saying this, Peter takes out his pocket-book, and makes off with himself.'] Now, can you conceive, that, without this knowledge, I could fathom the character of a total stranger ? Hen. Pray, tell us by what marks you discovered that in his heart and lips were no guile, and in his hands no fraud ! Fr. Ay, leave that to me ; we are not to reveal our secrets. But I will show you a face and character which exactly suit him. [Feels for his pocket-book in both pockets, looks wild and concerned.] Geor. {Tauntingly.] Ay, " in his heart is no guile, in his lips no deceit, and in his hands no fraud ! Now we see a strong example of the power of physiognomy !" 144 ELOCUTION MADE EASY. Fr. He is a wretch ! a traitor against every good sign ! I'll pursue him to the ends of the earth. [Offers to go.] Hen. Stop a moment. His fine, honest face is far enough before this time. You have not yet discovered the worst in- jury he has done you. Fr. What's that ? I had no watch or money for him to steal. Hen. By his deceitful lips, he has robbed you of any just conception of yourself ; he has betrayed you into a foolish be- lief that you are possessed of most extraordinary genius and talents. Whereas, separate from the idle whim about physi- ognomy, you have no more pretence to genius or learning than a common school-boy. Learn henceforth to estimate men's hands by their deeds, their lips by their words, and their hearts by their lives. 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