Exercises in Elocution - Forgotten Books

PREFA CE .

To furnish choi ce selections of prose and poetry for School,

Parlor, and Lyceum readings, ac companied by a comprehen

s ive method of teach ing the Art of Elocution, wi th its under

lying princ ip les, is the design of this book.

That it may be used with su ccess in our pub lic and pri vate

schools, independently, or in connect ion with any Series of

Readers, and may find its way to the tab le of many a pri

vate learner, is the h0pe of

THE COMPILER.

C ON TE N T S .

INTRODUCTIONl .

2. Subtonics3 . Atoni cs O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O 0 .

II. QUALITY OF VOICE

5. Plaint i ve6 .

7. Falset toFoncz

1 . Degrees1 .

2 .

5 . Dim inuendo . .

2. Variat ions or S tress1 . Rad ical

'

3 . Med ian4. Thorough

6 . Tremulous m

IV.

1 . Movement

1. Moderate

5 . very 910W c o o - o o o o - u o o o o c o c

1 . Sentent ial2 . Rhetorical

1 . Subject word1 . Subject ive 2. Subject phase

3. Subject i nverted2. Emphat ic

4 .

vi CONTENTS .

1. Pi tch1 . M idd le2. High8. Low

4 . Transi tions .

2.

4. Sem l tone

Waves or

VI.Gnsrunn1 . Posi tion of the hand

1 .

8.

4. Clenci i ed

5.

2.

2. Oblique8.

4. Backward

VII. MnTnons ron sq- cum uux

VI I I. Mm uons FOR TEACHING READING1. Primary2. Programme fo r a week’s lessons8. Methods for

4. Analy sisIX. SELECTIONSThe Creeds of the Bel ls, GEORGE W. BUNGAYOde on the Passions,l l igh

'l‘ide, JEAN IN GELOW

Gem s from Rusxm

The Vngabonds , J . T . Tnow sm non

A S ea Voy age, WASHINGTON IRV INGB ible, John l x.

Death of Morris, WALTER SCOTT .

Courts hip under Difficult iesThe Front and S ide Doors. 0. W. Il onmcs

The Rel ief ot‘ Lucknow, Ro unuT LOWELLBoy B ri t ton, FOBCEYTuE WILLSONBugle S ong, ALFRED TENNYSONRoll Call. AnonPy ramus and Thisbe. JOHN G. Su m

Evening at the Farm , J T . Ti toweni non

Put t ing up S toves

Tribute to Water, Govou .

Claribel’s Pray er, LYN DE Panama.

The Skeleton in Armor, LONGFELLOWTo Cecilia, Funnnmx a Barnu m .

0 o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o n .

CONTENTS . vii

ru n.

The Face agai nst the Pane, T. B . 80

Mo ther and Poet , Mns. BROWNING . 88

The Charge of the Light Brigade, 91

May Day e.WAVERLY 98

Scrooge and Marley , CHAs . 95

Pass ing Away , JouN 97

Sheridan’s Ride, T. B . 99

The N ight S cene in Macbeth, 101

Short Ex tracts, WRBB‘I‘RB, Em msox and 103

The Burning Prairie, ALICE CARY . 104

The P ied Piper o i‘ Hamelin, ROBERT BROWN ING 106

Psalm xc 111

Ivry , T. B . MAOAULAY 112

Gaff er G ray , IIOLcnOF'r 114

Auld Robin G ray , LADY ANNA BAHNARD 1 15

Chris t ian Mariner’s Hymn, Mrs. 116

S cenes [Tom the Lights and Shadows of Scot t ish Life, Jorm 118

The Batt le, translated from ScIIILLIm by Bunwsn 121

Over the River, Mi ss PRIEST 123

The Wonderful t‘One-Hoss Shay . o . W. Hom e 124

Warren‘

s Address , REV. JonN 128

A Psalm of Li fe, H.W. LONGFELLOW 129

Tasso’s Coronat ion, Mns . HEMANS 130

Death or the Old Year, ALI-mm 131

S ong o f the Greeks. CAMPBELL 133

The Bell of the Atlant ic, LYD IA H . S IGOURNEY 134

Adams and Jcfl'erson, DANIELWEBSTER 135

Po lish War S ong , JAmns G . PERCIVAI. 137

The Boy s, 0 .W. Hou rns 133

AnOrder for a Picture, Amos CARY 139

Scene from the Merchant of Ven ice , S IIAs IsAms 142

The National Ensign, ANON . 145

The Song of the Camp . 146

Peoplew i ll Talk , ANON 147

Somebody‘s Darling, WAR Da nce 01" THE SOUTH . . 148

Zenobia’s Ambi t ion, WILLIAM WARE 150

Port ia‘s Speech on Mercy , S IIAII sPaAIm 151

The Bells , EDGAR A. Pen 152

Romeo and Juliet (Balcony Scene) , S IIAHsPIIAmr 155

Jd B orner.MOTHER Goose FOR GROWN Paom n 160

Barbara 161

Wh ich ? AxonThe Power of Habit , JOH'

N B . Govern .

From Ivanhoe, WALTER

Ri p Van Winkle, WASHINGTON Irw me

Are the Chi ldren at Home, ATLANTIC M ON THLY

Scene from the School for Scandal, " SHERIDANLiberty and Independence. ARON

Mary Maloney ‘s Ph ilosophy , PHILAD ELPH IA BULLETIN

v CONTENTS .

The Ballad of Babic Bell , THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICII . .

The Irish Woman‘

s Let ter, ANONFrom Atalanta in Caly don, ALGERNON CHAs . SWINBURN . .

Darius G reen and h i s Fly ing Mach ine , J . T. TROWRRIDOE

NO Sect in Heaven , MRs . CLEVELAND .

Poetry , PERCIVALWool Gathering and Mouse Hunt ing , GAIL HAM IL TONA Legend of Bregenz, ADELAIDE PROCTER .

The Grandmother’s Apology . TENN YSON .

What i s Glo ry , What i s Fame ? MOTHERWELLThe Progres s of Poetry , GRAY .

From the To ilers of the Sea , VICTOR HUGO .The S inger, FLORENCE PERCYDannecker, MRs . JAMESONThe Vis ion of S i r Launt’al , J. R. LOWELLPan ,

MRs . BROWN INO

Foots teps on the Other S ideLi t t le N ell , DICR EN SThe Auct i on Ex traord inary , DAVIDSONThe Coquet te , SAXEThe New Year, EAG

‘

ER

Marion Moore , JAME S G. CLARKThe Well of S t . Key ne , ROB ERT SOUTHEY , 1793

Thank God ! there‘s st ill a Vanguard, Mas. l]. E. G. AREY

Through Death to Life, HARRY HARBAUGHM innie an ’ MeM y Darling ’

s S hoes

Unwri tten Mus ic, WILLIs

The Wreck of the Hesperus , LONGFELLOWG od , DERZIIAV IN

Aunt K indly , THEODORE PARKERThe G reat B ell Ro land , THEODORE T ILTONThe Young Gray Head , CAROLINE ANNE SOUTHY .

The Sulio te Mother, HEM ANS .Sandalphon LONGFELLOWThe Sold ier s ReprieveThe Cy uic, H. W.

The Drummer’sThe Isle of Long Ago , B . F. TAYLORExcels ior, LONGI‘ELLOWPoor L i t tle JimThe Dawn of Redempt i on, JAs . G . CLARKThe Bell. B . F. TAYLORDeclarat ion of IndependenceThe Burial of Mo ses

The Dy ing Christ ian to hi s Soul , ALEx . POPEFrom the Honey moon

,JOHN TOB IN . .

When ,How, andWhy , GRACE BROWN

The Inchcape Rock , ROBERT SOUTHEY

CONTENTS . Ix

PAGE .

Hom t ius , LlACAULAY o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o D o o o o o o o O O O Q O D O Q Q Q O O C O O Q O O O I C D I

The Song of the Sh irt , HOODAthena, the Queen of the Ai r,

The Ve to Power, IIENRY CLAYMarco Bozzari s . HALLECKThe Teeto tal M i ll .Li t tle Bennie ”

Lady Clare, TENNYsONThe Chi ld on the Judgment Seat , By the Author of the " COTTAFAMILYWanted , a Minister‘s Wi fe, X. Y.

Mais t Onie Day , TIMOTHYThe True Teacher, ROLLANDN ew Year‘sGabriel G rub, DICKENSDora, TENNYsoN

Revelat ions o f Wall S treet , RICHARD B . KIMBALLThe Romance and Reali ty of the Law, L . J . B IGELOWG rannie ’

s Trus tThe Telegram , SARAH E . IIEN sHAw

The Swan’s N est , M rs . BROWN INO

The Main Truck , or a Leap for L ife, G . P . MoRRIs

From Rose C lark , FANNY FERNFrom the American No te Book , HAWTHORNEInvocat ion to Light , Mrs . S . H. DE KROYI T

Richelieu, BULWERA S co tch Lady of th e Old School, MARY FERRIERB reak , Break , Break , TENNYSON .

What i s Life . JOHN CLARE .

Remarks on Read ing , GmRON

Scene from Virg inian, JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLESFrom the Dodge C lub, or Italy in MDCCCLIX, JAMES DE MILLEPictures o f Swiss Scenery and of the C i ty of Venice, DISRAELIJoan Of Arc. TrIos . DE QUINCEYDeath and S leep , S IIELLEYDeath Of Am eliaWentworth , BRYAN WIPROCT ERThe M inst rel’s Song in Ella, CIIATTERTONDeath o f Long Tom Coffi n , COOPERThe Character of Fals taff, HAzLITTThe Raven, POE

Death of Gawtrey , BULWE RJeanie Morrison, MOTHERWELLFad ing—Dy ing , ELLEN S CHE N CH .

Ske tches of Authors

ALPHABETICALLISTOFAUTHORS.

Aldrich T. E

Barnard , Lady AnneBeecher, HenryBeers , Ethel L.

B igelow, L.

Bremer, FrederikaBrown, G race .

Brown ing ,Browning . RobertBulwer, Edward L.

Campbell , Thomas

Cary ,

Chat t erton, ThomasC lare , JohnClark , James GC leveland ,

Collins , W ill iamDavidson, Lucret iaDe Kroy ft , Helen S .

De M ille, JamesDe

Derzhavin

D ickens , CharlesDisrael i ,Eager, Cora M.

Ferrier, Mary

Gough , JohnG ray , ThomasHalleck , Fi tz-GreeneHam ilton, Gai l . .

Hawtho r'ne.Nathai i i el

Hazli t t , Wi lliamHemans . Fel iciaHenshaw, Sarah E .

Holcroft

Irving , Wash ingtonJameson.Mrs ; Annao o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o c o c o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o a .

xn L IS T OF A UTHORS .

PAGE.

274

Ix imbal l , Richard B .334

370

Long fellow , Henry W. 78, 129, 248, 262, 270

Lowell , James RLowell; RobertMacau lay ,

'

Thomas B

M iller, Rev . W. E

Morris , George P .

Mo therwell , WilliamPalmer, Ly nde

Perc ival, Jame s G.

Percy . FlorencePierpont , Rev. JohnPoe , Edgar A. .

Pries t , Nancy .

Proctor, Edna D.

Read, Thomas B .

RollandRusk in, JohnSax e ,

John GS chenck , Ellen

S co t t , WalterS hak speare , William 101 , 14° 151 ,

Shelley , Percy By sshe

S igourney , Ly d ia H.

Sou they , Caroline AS ou they , Robert

Swan , Timothy

Swinburn , Algernon C.

Tay lor, Bay ard . . 146

Tay lor, Benjam in F. 269, 274

Tenny son , Alfred 68, 91 , 131 , 212, 310, 320,

Tilton ,Theodore

Tobin , John‘I‘rowbri dgc , J. T

Webster, Dan ielWhi tt ier, John GWillis , Nathaniel P .

Willson, Forcey the

Wilson, John 118

Anonymous , 233, 24 4 , 246 268, 272 ,279, 306, 315, 318, 340

INTRODU CTION .

Elocution is the art of expressing thought by speech.

Instru ction in this bran ch properly begins with vocal cul

ture, and we find that systematic training and rigid practice

develop the voi ce, and make it strong, flexible and melodions ; j ust as athleti c exercises give strength and p liability

of muscle and grace of movement.

The pugilist undergoes the most severe training for weeks

and months to prepare himself for a contest of strength.

And so, in ancient t imes, the gladiator exercised his musclesunti l the “

strength of brass was in his toughened sinews,”

and he cou ld rend the lion as if i t were a kid. And that old

oratorical gladiator, Demosthenes, pract iced vocal gymnasticsby the roaring sea, and left no means untried to remedy de

feets of voice and manner. Cicero studied oratory for thirty

years, and traveled all over Asia to hear models of eloquenceand to gain instruction.

Curran, stuttering Jack Curran, cu ltivated his voi ce so

industriously that he not only overcame the great defect, but

was actually noted for the clearness and perfection of his

art iculation. He practi ced before a mirror, and debated

questions as if he were in a lyceum.

But the development of the voi ce is only the beginning ofthe work. The student must be t rai ned in the great school

of natu re. He must listen to her voice as she speaks in herchildren, and thus gather models for im itation. Rosa Bon

heur has t he unmistakable inspiration of genius, but she

studied the physiology and characteristics of animals long

and faithfully before she was able to paint her sheep and

oxen with such life—like fidelity. Carrick’s acting was so

x iv IN TROD UCTION .

natural that the countryman who visited the theater, for the

first t ime, and saw him in Hamlet , said, “ if that litt le man is

not fri ghtened, I never saw a man frightened in my life ; why,he acts j ust as I would if I were down there with a ghost .”

Booth , in Richelieu , does not seem to be acting the char

a cter. The bowed figure, the wrinkles and the voi ce of age

are there, and y ou can scarcely bel ieve he is not the Car

dinal .And more wonderful still , Ristori , by the magi c power of

voice, her expressive face and her natural gesture, moves an

audience to laughter or to tears at wil l, and all th is, when

speaking in an unknown tongue.

The reader must be sympatheti c, entering into the joy or

grief of others as if i t were his own.

Mrs. Siddons once had a pupi l who was practi cing for thestage. The lesson was upon the part ” of a young girl whoselover had deserted her. The rendering did not p lease that

Queen of Tragedy, and she said,

“ Think how y ou would feel

under the circumstances. What would y ou do if you r lover

were to run off and leave y ou ?” “ I would look out for

another one, said that ph ilosophi c young lady, and Mrs. Sid

dons with a gesture of intense disgust cried out,

“ Leave me !”

and would never give her another lesson.

There must be a lively imaginat ion combined wi th art ist i c

skill. The pi cture m ust not only be clear and distinct in them ind of the reader, but he m ust be ab le to hold i t up beforehis audience as if it were on canvass. He m ust make the

principal parts stand out in h igh relief ; then he m ust withskillful fingers tou ch up the p icture, showing a vivid ligh there and a shadow there, until the ch iaro - oscu ro is perfect .

Such actors as Booth and Ristori, su ch readers as Fanny

Kemble and Murdo ch , and such singers as Jenny Lind and

Parepa are really Raphaels and M i chael Angelos. Their picture cannot be purchased by connoisseurs and hung in stately

INTI? onUCTION. xv

halls,but in the heart of every listener the gems of art are

hung, and memory forever after is enraptured as she gazes.

The j udgment must be sound, else bombast may be mis

taken for eloquence, and rant for the true expression of feel

ing. And finally, in reading, as in everything else,common

sense is a valuab le acquisition, and he who has it not, though

his voi ce may be, at his wil l, as strong as that of a lion or as

gentle as that of a dove, will never please.

In brief, the chief requ isites of the reader are voice, im i ta

tion, feeling, art isti c ski ll and above all comm on sense.

I. ORTHOEPY.

Orthoepy is the correct pronunciat ion of words.

In order to fix habits of correct pronunciation and distinct

enunciation, it is well to drill the voi ce upon the elementary

sounds of the language.

A Tonic is an unobstructed vocal tone,whi ch is capable of

indefinite prolongation.

TABLE.

eve.

A Subtonic has vocality, but is interrupted in its passagenot capab le of prolongat ion.

TABLE.

Y

An Atonic is literally a sound without tone,an expu lsion

of whispered breath.

1

2 EXER CISES IN ELOC’UTION.

TABLE.

p as in pit. s as in sink.

t ton. sh sharp.

in kate. h hem.

f fate. wh what .

th think.

There are also a few “occasional sounds, and also many

combinat ions, whi ch it is not thought necessary to gi ve in the

preceding tab les. Let the pup il pronounce the elements with

every variety of force, p itch, stress and time and to th is add

phonic spelling. These exercises wi ll not only give correct pro

nunciation, but wi ll give also flexibi li ty to the o rgans of speech.

11. QUALITY OF VOICE .

Qual ity is the kind or tone of voi ce used in expressing

sentiment . Nature has so wisely form ed the hum an vo ice

and the human sou l , that certain tones are associated with

certain emot ions. We readily recognize the cry of pain or

frigh t , the language of joy or sorrow,command or entreaty ,

though the words spoken are in an unknown tongue. Intelli

gent animals and children obey tones rather than words ; and,

as quality of voice is nature’s own mode of gi ving us the keyto her m ind, parti cular and early attent ion should be given tothis part of vo cal culture.

Rubens could, by one stroke of his brush,convert a laugh

ing into a weeping ch ild ; and we can color emot ion with

quali ties of voi ce so that the metamorphosis is not less suddenor more comp lete.

1 . Pure Q uality is that used in common conversation, sim

ple narrative or description.

If the vo ice is not really and techni cally pure, exercise in

vocal culture may make it so. Chi ldren’

s vo i ces seem to be

naturally pure. It is the utterance of ev il passion,with bad

reading and rec iting in the schools, that makes the voice

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4 EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION.

2 .

Because y ou flourish in worldly afl'

airs,

Don'

t be haughty, and put on ai rs,With insolent pride of stat ion !

Don’t be proud,and turn up your nose

At poorer people in plainer clothes,But learn

,for the sake of your m ind’s repose,

That wealth’s a bubble that comes— and goes !

And that all proud flesh , wherever i t grows,Is subject to i rri tation !

2 . The Orotund is used in expressing the language of

grandeur, sub lim ity, awe, reverence, courage, etc. It is round

and full, and may be said to be the maximum of pure quality.

It was named are rotunn’o by the old poet , Horace, when

speaking of the fiowmg eloquence of the G reeks

1.

O thou that rollest above,round as the sh ield of my fathers !

Whence are thy beams, 0 sun ! thy everlast ing light ? Thou comes tforth in thy awful beau ty ; the moon

,cold and pale

,s inks in the

western wave.

2 .

Once more un to the breach,dear friends

,once more ;

Or close the wal l up wi th our Engl ish dead.Oh

,when the blast of war blows in our ears

,

Then im i tate the ac tion of the t iger

S tifi’

en the sinew— summon up the blood

Disguise fai r nature W i l li hard favored rage ;Then lend to the ey e a terrible aspect ;Ay e, set the teeth and s tretch the nostrils w ide.Hold hard the breath

,and bend up every spiri t

To i ts full heigh t ! On,on

, y ou noble English,

Whose blood is set from fathers of war proof;Cry , Heaven for Harry, England and S t. George !

Shakweara

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION . 5

3. The Pectoral gives expression to deep - seated anger,despair, great solemnity, etc. It has its resonance in the

chest ; is low in pitch ; is usually accompanied by slow time,

and is, indeed, a very low orotund :

1.

Oh ! I have passed a miserable night,S o full of fearful dreams

,of ugly s ights

,

That,as I am a Christian fai thful man

,

I would not Spend another such a night,

Though 't were to buy a world of happy

80 full of dismal terror was the t ime !

2.

Mach. Methough t I heard a voice cry, S leep no more.

MAOBETH doth murder sleep the innocent sleep

S leep that kni ts up the ravel’d sleeve of care

,

The death of each day's life, sore labor

’s bath

,

Ba lm of hurt minds, great natare’

s second course,

Chief nourisher in life’s feast

What do y ou mean ?Mach. S t i ll i t cried, S leep no more

,to al l the house

GLAMIS hath murder’d sleep and therefore CAWDOR

Shall sleep no more MACBETH shall sleep no more !

S hakspeare.

4 . The G uttural (from gun‘ur, throat ) is used to express

anger, hatred, contempt, loathing, etc. Its characteristic is

an exp losive resonance in the throat.

I .

How l ike a fawning publican he looks !I hate him for he is a Christ ian ;But more

,for that

,in low simpli city

,

He lends out money grat is, and brings down

The rate of usuance wi th us here in Venice.

If I can catch him once upon the hip,I wi ll feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him l

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION .

He hates our sacred nat ion ; and he rai ls,Even there where merchants most do congregate ,On me

,my bargains, and my wel l—won thrift,

Which he cal ls interest. Cursed be my t ribe

If I forgive him !2.

Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward !

Thou cold—blooded slave !Thou wear a lion's h ide ?Dofl i t

,for sham e

,and hang

A calf skin on those recreant l imbs.

The Plaintive is used in the language of

1.

Oh ! but to breathe the breath

Of the cowsl ip and primrose sweet

With the sky above my head,And the grass beneath my feet.

For only one short hour

To feel as I used to feel,

Before I knew the woes of want

And the walk that costs a meal !

Farewel l !” said he,Minnehaha !

Farewel l, Omy Laughing Water !

All my heart is buried wi th y ou,All my thoughts go onward with y ou !Come not back again to labor

,

Come not back again to sufl'

er,

Where the Fam ine and the FeverWear the heart and waste the body.Soon my task will be completed,Soon your footsteps I shal l followTo the Islands of the Blessed

,

To the Kingdom of Ponemah,

To the Land of the Hereafter ! Longfellow.

EXERCIS ES IN ELooUTION. 7

6. The Asp irate gives the whispered utterance of secrecy ,fear, etc. Its characteristi c is distinctness— indeed

,whatever

is lost in vocality is made up in distinctness. For this reason

exercise upon this quality is of great value in vocal culture.The asp irate is usually comb ined wi th other qualities.

1.

Speak soft ly !Ali

’s hushed as m idnigh t y et.

S ee’st thou here 7

This is the mouth 0' the cell : no noise ! and enter.

2.

I fear thee ancient mariner !I fear thy skinny hand !

And thou art long and lank and brown,

As is the ribb’d sea sand. Cokridge.

7. The Falsetto is used in expressing afi'

ectation, terror, pain,mockery

,anger, etc. It is pitched above the natural range

of voice1.

I’l l not endure i t— Duke or no DukeI'll be a Duchess

,S ir !

2“ How now ?

Woman— where, woman, is your ticket,That ought to let y ou through our wicket ?

Says Woman,Where is David's Cow ?

Said Mr. H wi th expedi tion,

“ There’s no Cow in the Exh ibi t ion.

No Cow l - but here her tongue in verity,

Set off wi th steam and rail celerity

No Cow l there a in’t no Cow,

then the more’s the shame and p i ty .

Hang y ou and the R. A.

’s,and a ll the Hanging Commi ttee !

No Cow but hold y our tongue, for y ou needn’

t ta lk to me

You can’t ta lk up the Cow, y ou can

'

t,to where i t ought to be

I havn’t seen a picture high or low

,or any how,

Or in any of the rooms to be compared wi th David'

s C'ow Hood.

8 EXER CISE S IN E LOCUTION .

The pupils will determ ine the Quality of voice to be used

in reading the following exam p les, giving also the names of

authors :I.

Rejoice, y ou men of Anglers ! ring your bells

King John,your king and England's

,doth approach ;

Open your gates,and give the victors way !

2.

S toop,Romans

,s toop

,

And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood ;Then walk y e forth, even to the market -placeAnd, waving our red weapons o’er our heads

,

Let’s all Cry peace ! freedom ! and liberty !

3.

Call me thei r trai tor Thou injurious t ribune !Wi th in thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,In th ine hands clutched as m any M ILLIONS

,in

Thy ly ing tongue BOTH numbers would say ,Thou LIES ? !

4.

But the deacon swore, (as deacons do,

Wi th an “ I dew vum,

or an“ I tell yeou

,

He would build one shay to beat the taowu'N

’the keounty

'

n’all the kentry raoun ;

It should be so built that i t could’n’ break daowuFur,

”said the deacon

,

’t’

s m ighty plainThat the weakes’ place mus

’stan

’the strain ;

’N’the way t

’ fix i t,uz I maintain

,

Is only jestT’ make that na strong uz the rest.

5.

When the lorn damsel,wi th a frant ic screech

And cheeks as hueless as a brandy- peach,

Cries,“ Help , heind Heaven ! and drops upon her knees

,

On the green baize,beneath the canvas trees.

EXERCISES IN E LOCUTION. 9

6.

“ I wad ha'e kent i t,Mr. North

,on the tower o’ Babel

,on the

day 0'

the great hubbub. I think Socrates maun ha’e had just s ic avo ice y e canna wee l ca

’t sweet

,for i t is ower intellectual for

that y e canna ca’t saft

,for even in i ts laigh no tes there’s a sort 0’

birr,a sort 0’ dirl that betokens power— y e canna ca

’

t hai rah,for

angry as y e may be at t imes,i t

’

s ay e in tune free the fineness 0’

your ear for mus ic—y e canna ca’t sherp, for it

’

s ay e sae nat'

ral

and flett i t cud never be, gin y ou were even gi’en ower by the

doctors. It’s mais t the only voice I ever heard

,that I can say is

at ance persuawsive and commanding—y ou m ich t fear’

t,but y ou

maun love ’t ; and there

’s no voice in all his Majesty's dominions,

bet ter framed by nature to hold communion wi th friend or foe."

7.

MR. Onaron PUFF had two tones in his voice,The one squeaking thus

,and the other down so

In each sentence he u ttered he gave y ou your choice ;For one half was B alt

,and the rest G below.

0 ! oh ! Orator Pufl“,

One voice for an orator ’s surely enough !

But he st ill talked away,

'

spi te of coughs. and of frowns,So dist racting all ears with his ups and his downs,That a wag once, on hear ing the orator say ,“ My voice is for war

,

”asked him

,Which of them pray ? "

0 ! oh ! Orator Pufl",One vo ice for an orator ’

s surely enough I

Reeling homeward one evening,top

- heavy wi th gin,And rehearsing his speech on the we igh t of the crown

,

He tripped near a sawpi t,and tumbled right in

,

“ S inking fund,"

the last words as his noddle came down.0 ! oh ! Orator Pufi

'

,

One voi ce for an orator ’s surely enough !

0 ! save l" . he exclaimed , in his he- and- she tones,

“ Help me out ! help me out ! I have broken my bones !Help y ou out ! sai d a Paddy

,who passed

,what a bother !

Why,there'

s two of y ou there ; can’t y ou help one another ?"

0 ! 0h ! Orator Puff,One voice for an orator ’

s surely enough !1*


Perishing gloom i ly,Spurred by contumely,Cold inhumani ty,Burning insani ty

,

Into her rest .

Cross her hands humbly ,As i f praying dumbly,Over her breast !

Owning her weakness,Her evil behavior,And leaving, with meekness,Her s ins to her Sav iour.

9.

Shivering ! Hark ! he .mutters

Brokenly now that was a diffi cult breath

Another ? Wilt thou never come, 0 Death ?

Look ! how his temple flutters !Is his heart st i ll ? Aha ! l ift up his head !He shudders gasps Jove help him so he

’s dead.

10.

Gra. O,uprigh t judge ! Mark

,Jew a learned judge !

Shy . [Tremulously ] Is that the law ?

Por.- Thyself shall see the act

For,as thou urgest just ice, be assur’d

Thou shalt have just ice,more than thou desir’st .

Gra. O learned judge ! Mark, Jew — a learned judge.Shy .

— I take this offer,then ; pay the bond thrice,

And let the Chris tian go.

Bass. Here is the money.

The Jew shall have all just ice ;— soft ! - no haste ;He shal l have nothing but the penalty.

Gra. O,Jew ! an upright judge, a learned judge !

12 EXERCISES IN E LOC’UTION .

2.

So goes the world ; if wealthy, y ou m ay callThis friend

,that brother

,friends and brothers all ;

Though y ou are worthless,wi tless

,never m ind i t ;

You may have been a stable-boy—what then ?

’Tis wealth

,good sir

,makes honorable men.

You seek respect, no doubt, and y ou will find i t.But i f you ’re poor, Heaven help you l though your s i reHad royal blood wi thin him

,and though y ou

Possessed the intellect of angels, too,'

Tis all in vain — the world will ne’er inquireOn such a score ;—why shou ld i t take the pains 7’Tis easier to weigh purses, sure, than brains.

Jane Tay lor.

2 . Gentle. Very soft— like the p iano and pianissimo of

music ; used in expressing tenderness, love, secrecy, caut ion, etc

I .

Hush - a- by e, Li ll ian,Rock to thy rest ;Be thy l ife, l i t tle one

,

Evermore blest.Once has the changing moonWaned in the skiesS ince l it tle Li ll ianOpened her eyes.Once has the crescent moonShone in the wes t

,

On l ittle Li ll ianTaking her rest.

Schenck.

Is there a lone motherWeeping dead hopes above

,

Who bade her boy do batt leTender wi th tears and love ?Mourns she over his ashesW ith many a bit ter cry ?P i ty her anguish Father

,

Who gavest thy Son to die.

EXER CISE S IN ELOCUTION . 13

3 . Heavy. The forte and fort issimo of m usic

command, exu ltation, denunciation, etc

1.

S tand l the ground's your own,my braves,

Will y e give it up to slaves ?W ill y e look for greener graves ?Hepe y e mercy st i ll ?

What’s the mercy despots feel ?Hear i t in that bat tle pea],Read i t on y ou bristling steel,

Ask i t, y e who will l

2

I scorn forgiveness,haugh ty man I

You've injured me before the clan ;And nough t but blood shall w ipe awayThe shame I have endured this day .

4 . Crescendo A gradually increasing volume of voi ce .

But lo I he is nearing his heart’s des ireHe is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray

,

Wi th Sheridan only five m iles away.

5. Dim inuendo. A gradually decreasing volume of voi ce

The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low.

2 . VARIATIONS or FORCE , OR STRESS .

r. Radical An exp losive force upon the opening of

the vowel ; used in lively description, command, fear, etc

1.

There’s a dance of leaves in that aspen bower,

There’s a t i tter of winds in that beechen t ree,There’s a sm ile on the frui t

,and a sm i le on the flower

,

And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea lBry ant.

14 EXER CISES IN E LOCUTION.

2.

Talk not to me of odds or match !When Comyn died, three daggers clashed wi thinHis s i de. Talk not to me of sheltering hall !The Church of God saw Comyn fall l

On God’s own altar st reamed his blood ;While o’er my prostrate kinsman stood

The ruthless murderer, even as now,

Wi th armed hand and scornful brow.

Up i all who love me ! blow on,blow l

And lay the outlawed felon low l

2 . Final An explosive force upon the closing of the

vowel ; used in expressing determination, doggedness, dis

gust, etc

1.

A breath of submission we breathe not

The sword we have drawn we will sheaths not lCampbell.

2

I'll have my bond ; I will not hear thee SpeakI’ll have my bond ; and therefore speak no more.I'l l not be made a soft and dull- eyed fool

,

To shake the head,relent

,and s igh

,and yield

To Christ ian intercessors. Fol low not

I’ll have no Speaking : I will have my bond.Shakspeare.

3.

You may , if i t be God’

s wi ll,gain our barren and rugged moun

tains. B ut, like our ancestors of old, we will seek refuge in w i lderand more distant sol itudes ; and when we have resis ted to the last

,

we will starve in the icy wastes of the glaziers. Ay e ! men, women

and children, we wi ll be frozen into annihilat ion together,are one

free Swi tzer wi ll acknowledge a foreign master.

3. Median A swell of the voice upon the mid

dle of the vowel ; used in the language of grandeur, sub

limity, etc

EXER CISES IN ELOC’UTION. 15

1.

O thou that rollest above,round as the shield of my fathers !

whence are thy beams, 0 sun ! thy everlast ing ligh t ? Thou comes tforth in thy awful beau ty : the stars hide themselves in the sky ;

the moon, cold and pale, s inks in the wes tern wave.Ossian.

2

Hear the mellow wedding bells,Golden bells l

What a world of happiness thei r harmony foretells lThrough the balmy air of nigh t

,

How they ring out thei r delight lFrom the molten golden notes,

And all in tune,

What a l iquid di tty floatsTo the turtle dove, that l istens , whi le she gloats

On the moon !

Oh l from out the sounding cells,

What a gush of euphony voluminously wells,

How i t swells !How i t dwells l

On the fu ture l how i t tellsOf the rapture that impels

To the swinging and the ringing

Of the bells,To the rhym ing and the chim ing of the bells l

3.

Oh l sing unto the Lord a new song ; for he hath done marvelous things ; his right hand and his holy arm hath got ten him the

v ictory. Make a joyful noise unto the Lord,all the earth ; make a

loud noise,and rejoice

,and sing praise. S ing unto the Lord wi th

the harp ; with the harp and the voice of a psalm.

4 . Thorough E3 An exp losive force throughout the vowel,used in emphatic command, braggadocio, etc

1.

Come one,come all

,this rock shall fly

From its firm base as soon as I.

16 EXERCISES IN EL OCUTION.

2

Go,cried the mayor

,and get long poles !

Poke out the nests and block up the holes !

Consul t wi th carpenters and buil ders,And leave in our town not even a t race

Of the rats ! Robert Browning.

5. Compound x An exp losive force upon the opening

and closing of the vowel, indicat ing surprise

1 .

Gone to be married ! Gone to swear a peace !False blood to false blood joz

’

ned / Gone to be friends I

Shal l Lewis have B lanche,and Blanche these p rovinces ?

S halesp eare.2

Julia. Why l do y ou think I’l l work ?

Duke. I think ’

twill happen, wife.

Julia . What,rub and scrubyour noble palace clean ?

Duke. Those taper fingers will do i t daint ly .

Julia. And dress your victuals ( if there be any ) ? 0,I shall go

mad. b z'

n.

6. Tremulous M A waving movement of voi ce,used

in expressing excessive joy , grief, fear, old age, etc

1.

Oh ! then, I see queen Mab hath been with y ou.

She comes

In shape no bigger than an agate stone,

On the forefinger of an alderman,

Drawn by a team of l i ttle atom iesAthwart men

'

s noses,as they l ie asleep ;

Her wagon spokes made of long spinners’ legs ;The cover

,of the wings of grasshoppers ;

The t races,of the smal lest Spider

’

s web

The collars, of the moonshine’s watery beams ;Her whip of cricket's bone ; the lash of film ;Her wagoner, a small gray- coated gnat ;Her chariot is an empty hazel - nut

,

Made by the joiner squirrel,or old grub

,

Time out of m ind the fai ries’ coachmakers.


And in this state she gallops,night by night

,

Through lover’s brains,and then they dream of love ;

O'

er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees ;

O’er ladies’ l ips

,who straight on kisses dream

Somet imes she gallops o’er a courtier’s nose,

And then dreams he of smell ing out a sui t ;And somet imes comes she with a t ithe- pig's tail

,

Tickling a parson’s nose

,as he l ies as leep

,

Then dreams he of another benefice :Somet imes she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck

,

And then dreams he of cu tting foreign throats,

Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,Of healths five fathom deep ; and then anon

Drums in his ear ; at which he starts and wakes ;And

,being thus frighted

, swears a prayer or two,And sleeps again. S halcsp eare.

2.

O, Christ of the seven wounds, who lock'

st thro’ the darkTo the face of thy mo ther ! consider I pray,

How we common mothers stand desolate, mark,

Whose sons not being Christ ’s,die wi th ey es turned away,

And no last word to say !

3.

The l i ttle girl sl i d off his knee,

And all of a tremble stood.Good wife

,

"he cried

,

“ come out and see,

The skies are as red as blood."

God save us l” cried the settler’s wife,

The prai rie's a- fire,we must run for li fe l

The pupi l will determine the quality, degree of force and

stress to be used in giving the following examp les, also giving

names of authors1.

The good ship Union’

s voyage i s o’er,

At anchor safe she swings,

And loud and clear with cheer on cheerHer joyous welcome rings

1 8 EXERCISE S IN ELOCUTION.

Hurrah ! hurrah ! i t shakes the wave,It thunders on the shore,One flag , one land, one heart, one hand,One nation evermore l

2.

Oh l I have passed a miserable night.

8.

An hour passed on—the Turk awoke ;That bright dream was his last ;

He woke to hear his sentries shriek,To arms ! they com e ! the Greek ] the Greek !

He woke—to die’m idst flame

,and smoke

,

And shou t, and groan, and sabre stroke,

And death- shots falling thick and fast

As ligh tnings from the mountain- cloud ;And heard, with voice as trumpet loud,

Bozzaris cheer his band

S tr ike—t ill the last armed foe expi res ;S trike for your altars and your fires ;S trike—for the green graves of your s ires ;

God, and your nat ive land !

4.

I real ly believe some people save thei r bright thoughts as beingtoo precious for conversat ion. What do y ou think an adm i ring

friend sai d the other day to one that was talking good thingsgood enough to print ? “ Why

,

"sai d he

, y ou are wast ing merchantable l iterature, a cash art i cle

,at the rate

,as nearly as I can

tell,of fifty dollars an hour." The talker took him to the window

,

and asked him to look out and tell him what he saw.

Noth ing but a very dusty street,

"he said

,

“and a man driving

a sprinkling machine through i t."

Why don’t y ou tell the man he is wast ing that water 7 Whatwould be the state of the highways of life

,if we did not drive

our thought- sprinklers through them with the valves Open, somet imes


Qu ick . The movement of joy , h umor, etc

And see ! she sti rs !She starts

,she moves

,she seems to feel

The thri ll of life along her keel,And

,spurning with her foot the ground,

Wi th one exul t ing,joyous bound,

She leaps into the ocean’s arms l

3. Rap id. Used in expressing haste, fear, etc

Hurrah ! the foes are moving. Hark to the m ingled din,Of fife

,and steed

,and trump

,and drum

,and roaring culverin.

The fiery duke is pricking fast across S aint Andre’s plain,Wi th all the h irel ing chivalry of Guelders and Almay ne.

N ow by the l ips of those y e love, fai r gentlemen of France,

Charge for the golden l il ies— upon them wi th the lance !A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest,A thousand knigh ts are pressing close behind the snow- whi te crest

,

And in they burst,and on they rushed

,while

,like a gui ding star

,

Am idst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.

Macaulay ,

4 . Slow. U sed in the language of grandeur, sublim ity ,adoration, etc

And thou,0,

S i lent mountain,sole and bare

,

O,blacker than the darkness

,all the night

,

And vis ited all night by t roops of stars,

Or when they cl imb the sky , or when they sink,

Companion of the morning s tar at dawn,

Thyself earth's rosy star,and of the dawn

Co- herald l wake,oh l wake

,and u tter praise !

Ye ice—falls ! y e that from your dizzy heightsAdown enormous ravines steeply slope,Torrents

,methinks

,that heard a m igh ty noise

,

And stopped at once am idst thei r maddest plunge !Mot ionless torrents ! s ilent cataracts !Who made y ou glorious as the gates of heaven,Beneath the keen full moon ? Who bade the sun

EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION . 2 1

Clothe y ou wi th rainbows Who with lovely flowers

Of l iving blue Spread garlands at your feet ?God ! God ! the torrents l ike a about of nat ionsU t ter : the ice-plain bursts

,and answers

,God ! Coleridge.

5. Very slow. The deepest emot ion ofhorror, awe, gloom,

etc. 2

I had a dream which was not all a dream,

The brigh t sun was ext inguished ; and the starsDid wander darkling in the eternal space

,

Rayless and pathless ; and the icy earthSwung blind and blackening in the moonless air ;Morn came

,and went

,and came

,and brought no day .

By ron.

Examples for determining Quality, Force, Stress, Time and

names of au thors1

I'll tell y e what !I'll fly a few t imes around the lot

,

To see how’

t seems,then soon

’

s I’ve got

The hang o' the thing,ez l ikely '

s not,

I'll astonish the nat ion,

An’all creat ion

,

By fly in’over the celebrat ion !

Over thei r heads I'll sai l like an eagle ;I’ll balance myself on my wings l ike a sea- gull ;I’ll dance on the chimbleys ; I

’ll stand on the steeple ;I'll flop up to winders an

'

scare the people !I’ll l ight on the l iber ty - pole

,an

’ crow ;An

’ I’ll say to the gawpin’fools below

,

“ What world ’s th is ’

ere

That I’ve come near ? ’

Fur I’ll make ’

em b’ileve I’m a chap f ’m the moon ;

An’ I’ll try a race ’

i th thei r 01’ balloon l”

2.

Alas,what -

need y ou be so boisterous- rough ?I will not struggle, I will stand stone- st i ll.For Heaven’

s sake,Hubert

,let me not be bound ;

N ay , hear me,Hubert

,dri ve these men away

And I will si t as quiet as a lamb ;

22 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION.

I wil l not st i r,nor wince, nor Speak a word,

N or look upon the i ron angerlyThrust bu t these men away, and I

’ll forgive y ou

Whatever torment y ou do put me to.

3.

Then my heart i t grew ashen and sober

As the leaves that were crisped and sere

As the leaves that were wi thering and sere,And I cried, It was surely October,On this very night of last year,That I journeyed— I journey ed down here

That I brought a dread burden down here,Ou this nigh t of all nights in the year,Ah

,what demon hath tempted me here ?

Well I know now this dim lake of AuberThis m isty m id region of VVeir

,

Well I know now this dark tarn of Auber,

This ghoul - haunted woodland of We i r.”

4 .

Ye’re there,but y et I see y ou not !— forth draw each t rusty

sw ord,

And let me hear your fai thful s teel clash once around my board !I hear i t faintly !— louder y et ! What clogs m y heavy breath ?Up, al l I

— and shou t for Rudiger,

“ Defiance unto death I

5.

Arm ! arm ! i t is— i t is the cannon’

s open ing roar !Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro

,

And gathering tears,and tremblings of distress

,

And cheeks all pale,which but an hour ago

Blushed at the praise of the i r own loveliness.

6.

And all I remember is friends flocking round,

As I sate with his head ’twixt my knees on the ground ;

And no voice but was prais ing th is Roland of m ine,

As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine,

Which ( the burgesses voted by common consent)Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent.

EXERCISES IN EL ooUTION . 23

z. PAUSE OR GROUPING or SPEECH.

A pause is often more eloquent than words.

1 . Sentential. Founded upon the syntactical structure of

the sentence and indi cated by the marks of punctuation.

It is addressed to the ey e, and may or may not be used as a

rest of the voi ce.

The old- s chool fashion Of stopp ing invariab ly at the

comma long enough to count one, at a sem i colon two , at a

co lon th ree, etc. , has , we hope, wi th other reli cs of school

barbarism,passed away.

“ How did Garrick speak the soliloquy,last nigh t ? a—“ Oh l

against all rule,my lord, most ungrammatically l Betwixt the sub

stantive and the adject i ve,which should agree together in number

,

case and gender,he made a breach thus - stopping, as if the point

wanted sett ling ; and betwix t the nom inat ive case,which

,your

lordship knows,should govern the verb, he suspended his vo ice in

the epilogue a dozen t imes,three seconds and three- fifths by a

stop- watch,my lord, each t ime.

" “ Admi rable grammarian lBut

,in suspending his voice, was the sense suspended ? Did no

express ion of att i tude or countenance fil l up the chasm ? Was the

ey e si lent ? Did y ou narrowly look ? -“ I looked only at the

stop -watch,my lord ! —

“ Excellent observer !

S terne’

s sketch of the cri tic at the theatre.

2 . Rhetorical. Wholly dependent upon the sense and feel

ing, and, wh i le it rests the voice Of the speaker, is addressed

to the ear ofthe listener.

We give a few examples covering the pri ncipal ground of

Rhetori cal Pause.

r. ( 11) After the subject of a sentence.

Intemperance is a vice.

After the subject ive phrase.

The pleasures of sin l are but for a season.

When the subject is inverted.

The meekest Ofmen Iwas Moses.

24 EXERCISE S IN ELOCUTION.

2 . After every emphat i c word.

Mary is a good gi rl.Mary is a good girl.Mary is a good girl .

3. Before the prepositional phrase.

We are going into the co untry .

4 . Wherever an el lipsis occurs.

Boy Brit ton, only a lad, Ia fai r- hai red boy , s ixteen,In his uniform.

Into the storm,into the roaring jaws of grim Fort Henry ,

Boldly bears the Federal flot illa,Into the battle storm.

5. In order to arrest the attention.

The sentence was Death.

The student will locate rhetorical pauses in the followingexamples, giving also names of authors

1.

It was a maxim ofRafl'

aelle'

s that the artist’s object was to maketh ings not as Nature makes them,

but as shewoul d make them ; asshe ever tries to make them

,but never succeeds

,though her aim

may be deduced from a comparison of her efi'

ects ; just as if a

number of archers had aimed unsuccessfully at a mark upon a wall,

and this mark were then removed, we could by the examinat ionof thei r arrow-marks point out the probable pos it ion of the spotaimed at

,wi th a certainty of be ing nearer to i t than any of their

shots.

I am not comeTo stay : to bid farewell

,farewell forever

,

For this I come ! ’Tis over ! I must leave thee !

Thekla, I must—must leave thee ! Yet thy hatredLet me not take wi th me. I pray thee

,grant me

One look of sympathy,only one look.

EXERCIS ES IN E LOCUTION . 25

3

Ha ! bind him on his back !Look 1 —as Prometheus in my picture here !Quick— or he faints l s tand wi th the cord ial near !

Now— bend him to the rack !Press down the poisoned l inks into his flesh !And tear agape that heal ing wound afresh !

So—let him writhe ! How longWill be l ive thus ? Quick

,my good pencil, now !

What a fine agony works upon his brow !Ha ! gray- hai red

,and so strong !

How fearfully he st ifles that short moan !Gods ! if I could but paint a dying groan !

V. MELODY.

x. PITCH.

Pitch is the degree Of the elevation or depression of sound.

In musi c , exactness can be reached in regard to pi tch, whilein elocut ion, we can only use terms wh ich are modified by dif

ferent voi ces and gradations of emotionwith different persons.

1 . M iddle. U sed in conversat ional language

1.

The first step towards becom ing a good elocut ionist,is a correct

articulat ion. A publ ic Speaker, possessed of only a moderate voice,if he art iculates correc tly, will be bet ter understood, and heardwi th greater pleasure, than one who vociferates wi thou t judgment.

The vo ice of the latter may indeed extend to a cons iderable distance

,but the sound is diss ipated in confus ion. Of the former

voice not the smallest vibrat ion is wasted, every stroke is perce ived

at the utmost distance to which i t reaches ; and hence it has oftenthe appearance of penetrat ing even farther than one which is loud

,

but badly art iculated. Coms tock.2.

In slumbers of m idnight, the sailor-boy lay ;His hammock swung loose at the sport of the wind

But,watch -worn

,and weary

,his cares flew away ;

And v isions of happiness daue’d o‘

er his mind.

2Dimond.

26 EXERCISES mELOCUTION.

2 . High. Indicates joy , gri ef, astonishment, etc

1.

The slogan’

s ceased but hark ! din y e no hear

The Campbell'

s pibrock swell upon the breezeThey're com ing, hark ! then fall ing on her knees,We

’re saved,

”she cries, we

're saved. Vandmhofi

2.

Go ring the bel ls and fire the guns,And fl ing the starry banners out ;

Shout “ FREEDOM '

t ill your l isping onesGive back thei r cradle shou t. Whi ttier.

3. Low. Expresses grave, grand, solemn or reverential

feeling. The use of the low p itch is very effective in reading.

Ruskin says of painting, If y ou wish to express vivid light ,

y ou must make the shadows sharp and visible,

”and this rule

wil l apply to word pi c tures as well.

It will not do to give any part icular rendering for the voi ceefi

'

ect alone, but if taste is not sacrifi ced, some shading wi ll

only bring out the beau ty of the pi cture

And he hangs,he rocks between and his nost rils curdle in

,

Toll slowby /

And he shivers head and hoof and the flakes of foam fall off ;And his face grows fi erce and thin,

And a look of human woe,from his s taring eyes did go

Toll slowly !

And a sharp cry uttered he,in a foretold agony

Of the headlong death below.

Mrs. Browning.

4 . Transitions. It is very important that the student in vocalculture be able to take any pit ch at will, making sudden transi

t ions. Who has not suflered agonies unto ld, when listening toa speaker whose voi ce was keyed upon and sustained, withou t

variableness or shadow of turning, upon the h ighest and

sharpest pitch possib le ? The m inister who preaches uponan even pitch, whether h igh or low,

lu lls his audience to sleep.

The high voi ce is at first offensive to the ear, but by e and by e


Wi ll theNew Year come to -night,mamma ? I

'

m t ired of wait ing so ;My stocking hung by the chimney s ide, full three long days ago.

I run to peep wi thin the door by morning's early l igh t,

'Tis empty st i ll

,oh l say , mamma

,will the New Year come to

night ? M is s Eager.

4 . SEM ITONE .

The progress of pitch through the interval of a half tone.

It is called also the Chromatic melody , because i t paints p ity,

grief, remorse, etc. It may color a single word, or be contin

ued through an enti re passage or selection

The New Year comes to - night,mamma

,I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord — tel l poor papa my soul to keep,

If 1" — how cold i t seems

,how dark

,kiss me, I cannot see,

The New Year comes to n ight,mamma, the old year dies with me.

M i ss Eager.

The Sem itone is very delicate, and must be produced by

the nature of the emotion. An excess, when the mood or lan

guage does not warrant i t , turns pathos into burlesque, andthe scale may be turned from the sub lime to the ridi cu lous

by the weight of a hair. St rength, flexibi li ty and melody of

vo ice are of li ttle worth if the j udgment and the taste are

defective.

When reading is considered and t reated as a branch of

aesthet ic culture, then, and not t i ll then,wil l it be fu lly effecti ve.

When the beggar implores your alms,he knows full well that

he m ust bring to his aid the melody of the sem itone. We

once passed four beggars upon Harlem bridge, the first said,“ Pity the blind ! ” the second, Have mercy on the b lind !the th ird,

“ Help the b lind ! ” and the fourth,

“ Give to the

poor bl ind man !”All had the same tune

,made up of sem i

tonic slides, but when a po liceman ordered them away, the

melody was changed to diatonic imprecations.

WAVES OR C IRCUMFLEX.

SEM I -TONI C WAVE.Pi ty the sorrows of a poor old man.

EXERCISES IN EL ocurI oN. 29

DIATONIO WAVE .

Hai l,holy li ght

High on a throne of royal state IWAVE or A THIRD.

I sai d he was my fri end.

Ah 1 i s he y our friend , then

WAVE or A FIFTH.

Yes,I sai d he was my fri end.

Is he solely y our friend ?WAVE OF AN OCTAVE .

Irony . All thi s ? Ay e, more ! Fret ti l l you r prou d heart break.

Go,show your s laves how choleri c y ou are

,and make y our bond

man tremble. Must I budge 2 Must I observe y ou Must I standand crouch under y our testy humor

‘3

FIFTH AND OCTAVE .

Ridicule. You must take me for a fool to think I could do that .Irony . For mine own part. I shal l be glad to learn of noble men.

For Brutus i s an honorable man.

Irony . You meant no harm oh,n

'

o you r thoughts are innocent ;y ou have nothing to hide ; your breast i s pure, stainl ess , al l t ruth .

Anti tleesis . If y ou sai d so,then I said so. Let the gal l

’d jadewince, our wi thers are unwrung !

VI. GESTURE.

I. POSITION or THE HAND.

I . Sup ine open hand, fingers relaxed, palm upward used

in appeal, entreaty , in express ing l ight, joyous emotions , etc.

2 . Prone ; open hand, palm downward ; used in negativeexpressions, etc.

3. Verti cal Open hand, palm ou tward for repell ing, warding off, etc.

4 . C lenched hand tightly C losed used in defiance, cour

age, threatening, etc.

5. Pointing prone hand, loosely closed, wi th index finger

extended used in point ing out, designat ing, etc.

2 . DIRECTION .

1 . Front ; the hand descending below the hip, extending

30 EXER CISES IN ELOCUTI oN.

hori zontally,or ascending to a level or above the head, at

righ t angles wi th the speaker’s body.

2 . Ob lique ; at an angle of forty—nve degrees from the

speaker’s body.

3 . Extended di rect from the speaker’s side.

4 . Backward reversely corresponding to the ob lique.

ABBREVIATION S. DIRECTION S .

R. H. S . Right Hand Supine. The dotted words indi cateR. H. P . Right Hand Prone. Where the hand i s to be rai sed

R. H. V . Right Hand Vert i cal . in preparat i on.

B . H. S . Both Hands Supine. Th t (1 thB H. P Both Hands Prone. d

e ges ureca

l

l

s ma e upon 0

B. H. V. Both Hands Vertical .Well;

1

1?0

31

11

11.8 °

th t liD. f. Descendi ng Front .

e an ops upon 0 l a

H f_ Hori zontal Front . cl sed word or syl lable.

A. f. Ascending Front .D. o . Descending Obl ique .

Horizontal Oblique.

A. o Ascending Obl ique.

D. Descending Extended.Hori zontal Extended.

A. Ascending ExtendedD. b: Descending Behind.

H. b. Hori zontal Beh ind.A . b. Ascending Behind

The fo l lowing examples have appeared in several works onElocu tion—The N ew York Speaker and others . Despai ringOf furnishing better examples, I have taken the liberty to use

them

R. H. S .

D. f: This sentiment I will maintain with the last breath ofLIFE.

H. f I appeal to YOU,s ir

,for your de cis ion.

A . f I appeal to the great Searcher of HEARTS for the t ruth ofwhat I a t ter.

D. 0. Of all m istakes NONE are so fa tal as those which we incuIthrough prejudice.

H. 0. Truth, honor, JUS t ice were his mo tives.

A. 0. Fix your ey e Ion the prize of a t ruly No ble am bi t ion.

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION . 3 1

D. e. AWAY with an idea so absurd !

H. e. The breeze of morning wafted IN cense on the air.

A. e. In dreams thro’ camp and court he bore the trophies of aCONqueror. I C 0 O O O O O O O O O O O C O

D. b. AWAY wi th an idea so abhorent to humanity !

H b. Search the records of the remote st an TIqui ty for aparallel

to th is.

A. b. Then rang their proud HURRAH !

R. H. P.

D.f. Put DOWN the unworthy feel ing !

H.f. Re STRAIN the unhallowed prop en sity .

D 0. Let every one who would meri t the Christ ian name re

PRESS Isuch a feel ingH. o. I charge y ou as men and as Christ ians to lay a re STRAINT

O O 0 O I O

on all such dispo si t ions lA. o. Ye gods with HOLD your ven geance !D. e. The hand of afl

'

ection shall smooth the TURF for your lastp il low !

H. e. The cloud of adver si ty threw i ts gloom over all his PROS

pectso o o o

A. e. So darkly gloom s y on thunder cloud that swathes as wi th

a purple SHROUD Benledi ’s distant hil l.

R. H. V.E j: Arise ! meet and re PEI. yourfoe !

A f For BID i t,Alm ighty God /

11. 0. He generously extended the arm of power Ito ward on

t he blow.

A. 0. May Heaven 3. VERT the cal am i ty !H. 0. Out of my S IonT thou serpent !

H. b. Thou tempt ing fiend a VAu-NTI

B. n. 8.

D. j. All personal feel ing he de P08 ited on the al tar ofhis country’

s

good.0 o o

32 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION .

Listen,I im PLORE y ou, to the voice of rea son !

HAIL ! universal Lord.

D. a. Every personal advantage 1he surREN dered to the common

WELCOME ! once more to your early home !A . o. HAIL ! holy Light ID. e. I utte rly re NOUNUE all the supposed advantages of such a

stat ion.

They y et slept in the W ide a BYSS of possi bil i ty.

A. e. Joy , joy Ifor EVER.

Lie r.i c ly on him,earth—his step was li ght on thee.

N ow all the blessings of a glad father LIGHT on thee !

i. i i } NAM; o'

Lira'

,Moritz

D. 0. We are inThy sight Ibut as the worms of the DUST !

May thegrace-

of

.

G

'

od abide wi th y oufor EVER.

A. 0. Andlet thdtriple'

rainbow rest o

’er all the mountain Tops.

D. e. Heie let:thetIimiIl ts ofpassion.

| forever OEASE !

Spread wide a ROUND the heaven- breathing calm !

Heaven Op ened WIDE her ever du'

ring gates.

13. H. V.HENOE hideous sp ecter ]

AVERT 0 God, the frown of thy indignation !

Far from OUR hearts be so inhuman a feeling.

A. 0. Let m e net NAME it to y ou y e chaste stars !

Arid if the night have gathered aught of evi l or concealed

dis PERSE i t.

A. e. Melt and dis PEL, y e specter doubts !

EXERCISE S IN ELOC UTION . 3 3

VII . METHODS FOR SELF- CULTURE.

The living teacher, as a model, is better than all books of

rules upon elo cution ; y et , if the pupi l cannot be dri lled by a

master in the art,he m ay study carefu lly some good work

upon the subject, and if he is observing and has no serious

defect of voi ce, may still make m u ch progress in self- culture.

The fo llowing tab le of exerc ises are recommended as helps for

developing and improving the voice

1. Breathing deeply and slowly, rapidly and explos ively.

2. Read ing in a whisper so dist inctly as to be readily heard

throughout a large room.

3. Reading loudly in doors; out of doors, and when running up

hill.Read slowly and rapidly alternately.Read high and low al ternately.

Read heavy and gentle alternately.Increase and dim inish in force alternately.

Read up and down the mus ical scale alternately.

SPECIFICS .

1. For strength of voice loud explosive exercises.

2. For dist inct enunciat ion the whisper or an aspirated voice.

3. For smoothness the medium stress wi th slow t ime.

4 . For flexibi li ty as rapidly as poss ible.

5. For meet ing w i th any measure of success, keep the eyes and

ears open and p ractice, p ractice, p ractice.

VIII. METHODS FOR TEACHING READING .

Probably no other branch in our schoo ls is so poorly taught

as that of reading. There are many reasons why this is so,

perhaps the principal ones are these

1. Teachers cannot themselves read well.

Now,i t is poss ible, W ithout doubt , for a person who cannot sing

very well to teach others to make more music than he can himself,

2*

34 EXERCISES IN E LooUTmN .

and just so with reading , but if he is proficient in the pract ice as

well as the theory, how much better can he teach.

The teacher should be fam iliar wi th the lesson. He should have

a well—defined plan in his m ind concerning the manner in which i t

shall be taught. He should decide previously what quest ions he

will ask to arouse attent ion— how he will fix the lesson in the

m ind.

2. The mat ter of the lessons is often far beyond the comprehen

sion of the pupil.Many a child blunders on over a dissertat ion upon the Problems

of the Universe or the“ Grandeur of the Ocean" without an idea

concerning the meaning of a sentence. The name of the author of“ Easy Lessons" should be honored during all t ime. Before the

.publicat ion of this book, the chi ld of six or seven years of age

Spelled out his lesson in the Testament or Engl ish Reader. Let the

teacher make select ions of those pieces which the child can under

stand.3 . The children do not study.

The teacher should see that the lesson i s well prepared before i tis read. The knowledge of the chi ld should be tested by quest ion

ing, and he should be ready to define every word if necessary, and

tell the story in his own language.

4 . The lesson is often too leng thy.

Pupils are somet imes allowed to read a half dozen pages at a

lesson,and then only once over

,hurrying through from preface to

fin is as if an enemy were in full pursui t,and liable to overtake them

at any moment. This is all wrong ; a page or two is almost alwayssufficient for a lesson. Let the piece be read in sections and after

ward reviewed.

5. Children read after the teacher in concert or otherwise,having

no more intellectual dri ll than if they were so many parrots.The Pest ilozzian rule “ N ever tel l a child any thing which he

can discover for himself, should be rigorously fol lowed in teaching

reading. Let them crit icise each other— the teacher quest ioning

adroi tly unt il the correct rendering is given.

The following order of exercises in conducting primary

classes has been successfully followed

36 EXER CISES IN E LOCUTION .

3. Boys and girls alternate, reading a sentence each.

Reading to m istake.

Reading in couples.

Giving parts in dialogues.

Choos ing sides (s im i lar to methods used in spell ing) .Looking- glass Reading (class im itate one pupil) .

Nam ing pupil who reads unt i l some other name is called.

Voting for: best readers.l l . Dictating lesson, which they Copy one day and read the ncx t.

Medley Reading ( like a round in s inging) .13. Volunteer Reading.14. Giving examples gathered from the play ground. (Let thechildren read from the blackboard what they have u t tered when at

play. There is certainly no exercise better sui ted for teaching

natural reading.)

4 . ANALYSIS AND METHOD or TEACHING.

ODE ON THE PASS IONS. page

1. Ask author’s name.

2. When writ ten ?

3. What other writ ings of prose or poetry by same author ?

I. STANZA.

1. Meaning of phrase “ When Mus ic was young ”?

2. What country was the cradle of arts and sciences ?3. Whose “

shel l ” 7

4 . Whence is the figure borrowed ? (Gods and goddesses wererepresented as making mus ic upon sea shel ls. Tri ton was Nep

tune's trumpeter,and he made music upon a s i lver sounding shell.)

“ Like the s ilvery tones of a fairy Shell

Passing away Pierpont.

Does any line of the first four lack a sy llable ?Was ed sounded originally ?How fi ll the rhythm i f a syllable is want ing ?What parenthet ic expression in one of the first four lines ?How will y ou paint exul tat ion, rage, etc ?Who were the muses ? What is meant by muses

’ paint ing ?


11. What kind of “ fury is meant ?

12. Meaning of “ rapt " ?13. See that the pupil does not say rap t inspired.

14. Have class seen myrt les upon wh ich mus ical instrumentsm ight be hung ?15. Get or give. description of the myrtle tree of the

1. How paint Fear ?2. How does fear exhibi t i tself?3. The teacher or some pupil read in different ways ; class say

which is correct.

(Class will always decide that an aspirated tremor is correct .)

1. Wi th what qual i ty of voice paint Anger

(Gut tural explosi ve.)2. How paint clash ?3. What t ime upon last line ?

IV.

1. How would y ou paint upon canvas a picture of Despair ?2. You would represent a person of what age ? Why not you th

or extreme old age

3. Posit ion of figure ? (Bowed head)4 . If the person were to speak

,what tonewould he use

5. Would he Speak slowly, or quickly, in high or low tone

6. In last clause of last l ine,what other phase of despair is des

cribed

7. Does desnair induce insanity ?

V.

1. How paint Hope upon canvas ?

(You th , beaming face, looking toward the future, voiceringing

,h igh in pitch .)

What force upon second and th ird line from the last ?

What time upon last line ?

88 EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION.

VI.

How read first half of first l ineHow describe Revenge by tone of voice ?

How read thi rd line ?

Quality on fourth ?Qual ity on fifth ?

How paint the beating of the drum ?

How paint Pity

How read last line ?VII.

1. How give veering song of Jealousy(Nasal intonation wi th scorn.)

2. Changes in last line

VIII.

1. Tone used in expressing Melancholy ?2. How read dashing soft from rocks around (S tacato.)3. T ime on “ Through glades, etc.

"

4 . How read last three l ines ?

(Delicate diminuendo, hollow voice, giving the idea of distance,by arching the throat.)

IX.

How describe Cheerfulness

Meaning of buskins

Meaning of Faun and Dryad ?

Meaning of oak- crowned s isters, satyrs, sylvan boys, etc ?

Do y ou see this creature who personates ch’eerfulness

X.

1. How will Joy difi‘

er from Cheerfulness ?2 . Meaning of Tempe’s vale ?

3. What is the general t ime of this stanza ?

The questions might be mult iplied,and would, undoubtedly .

This lesson has been gi ven as a specimen.

If the reading is an intellectual exercise, some such analy.

sis must be gi ven.

READING AND ELOCUTION.

The Creeds of the Bells.

How swat; the chime of the SabbathEach one i ts creed in musi c t

el ls,

In tones that float upon the ai r,As soft as song

,as p ure as pray ei',

And I wi l l put in simpleI!

The language of the golden ch lme ;

My happy heart wi th rap tu re swel ls

Responsi ve to the bel ls, sweet bel ls.

In deeds of love excel l excel l”

Chimed out from ivi ed towers a bel lThi s is the chu rch not bu i lt on sands

,

Emblem of one not bu i lt wi th hands ;Its forms and sacred ri tes revere,Come worshi p here ! come worshi p here !In ri tuals and fai th excel l”

Chimed out the Epi scopalian bel l.

Oheed the ancient landmarks wel l 1”

In so lemn tones exclaimed a bel l

No p rog ress made by mortal man

Can change the j ust eternal p lan

Wi th God there can be nothing new ;Ignore the false, embrace the true,Whi le al l i s wel l i i s wel l I i s wel l I”

Pealed out the good old Dutch church lbel l .


Oswel l y e puri fy ing watersEwel l I”

In mel low tones rang out a bel l ,Though fai th alone in Chri st can save,Man must be p lunged beneath the wave,To show the world unfaltering fai th

In what the Sacred Scri ptures sai th :

0 swel l l y e ri s'

Pealed out the clear- t ap ti st bel l .

Not faith alone,but worfi as wel l ,

Must test the soul I” sai d a soft bel l

Come here and cast asi de you r load ,And work your way along the road ,Wi th fai th in God , and fai th in man

,

And hope in Chri st , where h0pe began ;Do wel l do wel l I do wel l ! do wel l !”

Rang out the Uni tari an bel l.

Farewel l ! farewel l ! base world , farewell 1”

In touching tones exclaimed a bel l“ Li fe i s a boon , to mortals given ,

To fit the sou l for bli ss in Heaven

Do not invoke the avenging rod ,Come here and learn the way to God ;Say to the worl d , Farewel l farewell

Pealed fo rt h the Presbyt erian bel l.

To all the t ruth,we tel l I we tel l I”

Shouted in ecstacies a bel l,Come all y e weary wanderers, see I

Our Lord has made salvati on freeRepent

,beli eve

,have fai th

,and then

Be saved , and p raise the Lord , Amen lSalvation’s free, we tell we tel l I”

Shouted the Methodi st i c bel l.


Ode on the Passions.

WHEN Music,Heavenly maid

,was young,

Wh ile y et in early Greece she sung,

The Passions oils,to hear her shell,

Thronged around her magic cell ;Exult ing, t rembling, raging, faint ing,Possessed beyond the Muse's paint ing

,

By turns,they felt the glowing m ind

Disturbed del ighted,raised

,refined ;

Ti ll once, t is said, when all were fired,

Filled with fury,rapt

,inspi red

,

From the support ing myrtles roundThey snatched her instruments of sound ;And, as they oft had heard apart

Sweet lessons of her forceful art,

Each—for madness ruled the hourWould prove his own express ive power.

First,Fear his hand, i ts skill to try ,

Am id the chords bewildered laid ;And back reco iled

,he knew not why

,

E’en at the sound himself had made.

Next,Anger rushed

,his eyes on fire

,

In lightnings owned his secret st ings

In one rude clash he struck the lyre,

And swept,with hurried hands

,the st rings.

Wi th woful measures,wan Despai r

Low sullen sounds !— his grief beguiled ;A solemn

,st range

,and m ingled air ;

’Twas sad

,by fits

,by starts

,

’t was wild.

But thou, 0 Hope ! with eyes so fai r,What was thy del ighted measure ?S t ill i t whispered prom ised pleasure,

And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail !S ti ll would her touch the strain prolong ;

40* EXER CISE S IN ELOCUTION.

And,from the rocks

,the woods

,the vale,

She called on Echo st i ll through all her song ;And

,where her sweetest them e she chose,

A soft respons ive vo ice was heard at every close ;And Hope

,enchanted

,sm il ed

,and waved her golden hair.

And longer had she sung but , wi th a frown,Revenge impat ient rose.

He threw his blood- stained sword in thunder down ;And

,with a withering look

,

The war—denouncing trumpet took,

And blew a blas t,so loud and dread

,

Were ne’er prophet ic sounds so full of woe

And,ever and anon

,he beat

,

The doubl ing drum with furious heat .

And though,somet imes

,each dreary pause between

,

Dejected P ity,at his s ide

,

Her soul- subduing voice appl ied,

Yet st il l he kept his wild unaltered m ien ;While each strained ball of s ight seemed burst ing from his head.

Thy numbers,Jealousy

,to naught were fixed ;

Sad proof of thy distressful state !

Of difi‘

erent themes the veering song was m ixedAnd now i t courted Love now

,raving

,cal led on Hate.

With eyes upraised,as one inspi red

,

Pale Melancholy sat ret i red ;And.

from her wild sequestered seat,

In notes,by distance made more sweet

,

Poured through the mel low horn her pens ive soulAnd

,dashing soft

,from rocks around

,

Bubbling runnels jo ined the sound ;Through glades and glooms the m ingled measure stoleOr o’er some haunted streams

,wi th fond delay

Round a holy calm diffusing,

Love of peace and lonely musingIn hollow murmurs di ed away.


Men 3

By mi llions crouched on the old sea wall.

I sat and Spun wi thin the doore,‘

My threadprake I raised myne

The level sun,l ike ruddy ore,‘

Lay sinkingjin the barren skies

And darklagamst day'

s golden deathShe mowed/ where Limi is wandereth,My sonne

’s faire wife

,E lizabeth

/

Ousha ! Cugi a l‘

call ing,Ere the early devv

‘é‘were fall ing

,

“

Farre away I heard her song.

Omaha all along ;Where the reedy Lindis fioweth

,

Floweth,floweth

,

From the meads where meli ck groweth,Faintly came her milki ng song.

Cusha ! Cusha ! Cusha ! call ing,

For the dews wi ll soone be falling ;Leave your meadow grasses mellow

,

Mellow,m el low ;

Qui t your cowslips,cowsl ips yellow ;

Come uppe White foot, come uppe Lightfoot ;

Quit the stalks of parsley hollow,

Hollow,hol low ;

Come uppe Jetty,rise and follow

,

From the clovers l ift your head ;Come uppe Whi tefoot

,come uppe Lightfoot,

Come uppe Jet ty,rise and follow

,

Jetty,to the milk ing shed.

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION.

If i t be long,ay e, long ago,

When I beginne to think howe long,

Againe I hear the Lindis flow,

Swift as an arrowe,sharpe and strong

And all the s ire i t seemeth mee

B in full of float ing bel ls (sayth shee) ,That ring the tune of Enderby.

Alle fresh the level pas ture lay ,And not a shadowe mote be seene

,

Save where full fy ve good m iles awayThe steeple towered from out the greene ;

And 10 ! the great bell farre and wide

Was heard in all the country side

That Saturday at event ide.

Then some looked uppe into the sky ,

And all along where Lindis flows

To where the goodly vessels lie,

And where the lordly steeple shows.They say de,

“ And why should this thingWhat danger lowers by land or sea ?They ring the tune of Enderby !

For evil news from Mablethorpe,Of py rate galleys warping down ;

For shippes ashore beyond the scorpe,They have not spared to wake the towne

But while the west bin red to see,

And storms be none,and py rates flee,

Why ring . ‘The Brides of Enderby 7: u

I looked without,and 10 ! my sonne

Came riding downe wi thmight andHe raised a shout as he drew on

,

Till all the welkin rang again,

Elizabeth ! El izabeth I"

(A sweeter woman ne’er drew breath

Than my sonne’

s wife,El izabeth .)

43

44 EXERarse s IN E'L ocvrION.

The old sea wall (he cried) is downe,The ris ing tide comes on apace,

And boats adrift in yonder towne

Go sail ing uppe the market -place.

He shook as one that looks on death“ God save y ou, mother !

"st raight he sai th ;

Where i s my wife, E lizabeth 7"

Good sonne, where Lindis winds away

With her two bai rns I marked her long ;And ere y on bells beganne to play,Afar I heard her m ilking song.

"

He looked across the grassy sea,To right, to left , Ho Enderby

They rang “ The Brides of Enderby !

Wi th that he cried and beat his breast ;For lo ! along the river’s bed

A mighty ey gre reared his crest,And up the Lindis raging eped.

It swept wi th thunderous noises loud ;Shaped like a curling snow-white cloud

,

Or li ke a demon in a shroud.

And rearing Lindis backward pressed,

Shook al l her t rembling bankes amaineThen madly at the ey gre

’s breast

Flung uppe her weltering walls again.

Then bankes came down with ruin and routThen beaten foam flew round aboutThen all the mighty floods were out.

So farre, so fast the ey gre drave,The heart had hardly t ime to beat,Before a shallow seeth ing waveSobbed in the grasses at oure feet

The feet had hardly t ime to fleeBefore i t brake against the knee

,

And all the world was in the sea.


Upon the roofe we sate that night,The no ise of bells went sweeping byI marked the lofty beacon l ightS tream from the church tower

,red and

A lurid mark and dread to see ;

And awesome bells they were to mee,

That in the dark rang Enderby.

"

They rang the sai lor lads to guideFrom roofe to roofe who fearless rowed ;

And I— my sonne was at my s ide,

And y et the ruddy beacon glowedAnd y et he moaned beneath his breath,0 come in l ife

,or come in death !

0 lost ! my love, E lizabeth.

And didst thou vis i t him no more ?Thou didst

,thou didst

,my daughter deare ;

The waters lai d thee at his doore,

Ere y et the early dawn was clear.Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace

,

The l ifted sun shone on thy face,Downe drift ed to thy dwelling- place.

That flow strewed wrecks about the grass,That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea ;

A fatal ebbe and flow,alas !

To manye more than myne and me

But each will mourn his own (she saith) .

And sweeter woman ne’er drew breath

Than my sonne’s wife

,El izabeth.

I shall never hear her moreBy the reedy Lindis shore,Cusha

,Cusha

,Cusha ! " cal l ing

,

Ere the early dews be falling ;I shall never hear her song

,

Cusha,Cusha !” all along

,

Where the sunny Lindi s floweth,Goeth

,floweth

45

46 EXERCISES IN E LOCUTION.

From the meads where mel ick groweth,When the water, winding down,Onward fioweth to the town.

I shall never see her more

Where the reeds and rushes quiver,Shiver, quiver ;

S tand bes ide the sobbing river,S obbing

,throbbing

,in i ts fall ing

,

To the sandy lonesome shore ;I shall never hear her call ing,“ Leave your meadow grasses mellow

,

Mellow,mel low ;

Quit your cowsl ips, cowslips yellow ;Come uppe Whitefoot , come uppe Lightfoot

Quit your pipes of parsley hollow ;Hollow

,hol low ;

Come uppe Lightfoot , rise and follow ;Lightfoot

,Whitefoot

,

From the clovers l ift your head ;Come uppe Jetty, follow, follow,Jetty

,to the m i lking shed.

”

Jean

Gems fromRuskin.

It was a maxim of Rafi’

aelfe’s that the art ist’s object was tomake

things not as N ature makes them,bu t as she would make them ; as

she ever t ries to make them,but never succeeds

,though her aim

may be deduced from a comparison of her effects ; just as if a

number of archers had aimed unsuccessfully at a mark upon a wal l,

and this mark were then removed,we could by the exam inat ion of

the ir arrow - marks point out the probable posit ion of the spot aimed

at,with a certainty of be ing nearer to i t than any of their oshots .

We have most of us heard of original sin,and may perhaps, in

our modest moments,conjecture that we are not quite what God,

or Nature, would have us to be. Rafi‘

aelle had something to mend

in humani ty : I should like to have seen him mending a daisy,or a

pas se—blossom,or a moth

,or a mustard; seed

,or any other of God’s

sl ightest work ! If he had accompl ished that,one m ight have found


for him more respectable employment,to set the stars in bette r

order,perhaps (they seem grievously scattered as they are

,and to

be of all manner of shapes and sizes,except the ideal shape

,and

the proper size) ; or, to give us a corrected view of the ocean, that atleas t seem s a very i rregular and improveable th ing : the very fishermen do not know this day how far i t wil l reach

,driven up before

the west wind. Perhaps some one else does,but that is not our

bus iness. Let us go down and stand on the beach by the sea— the

great irregular sea, and count whether the thunder of it is not out

of t ime— one,—two :—here comes a well- formed wave at last,

trembl ing a l itt le at the top, but on the whole, orderly. 80 ! Crash

among the shingle, and up as far as this gray pebble ! Now,stand

by and watch. Another : —Ah,careless wave ! why couldn’

t y ou

have kept your crest on ? It is all gone away into Spray,striking

up against the cl iffs there I thought as much—missed the mark

by a couple of feet ! Another How now,impat ient one ! couldn’

t

y ou have waited t il l your friend's reflux was done with

,instead of

rolling yourself up with i t in that unseem ly manner ? You go for

nothing. A fourth, and a goodly one at last ! What thi nk we of

yonder slow rise,and crystalline hollow

,wi thout a flaw ? S teady

,

good wave ! not so fast ! not so fast ! Where are y ou com ing to ?This is too bad ; two yards over the mark

,and eve r so much of y ou

in our face bes ides ; and a wave which we had some hope of,behind

there; broken all to pieces out at sea,and laying a great white

tablecloth of foam all the way to the shore,as if the marine gods

were to dine ofi"i t ! Alas

,for these unhappy arrow- shots of

Nature ! She w ill never hit her m ark with those unruly waves

of hers,nor get one of them into the i deal shape

,if we wait for a

thousand years.

Go out some bright sunny day in winter, and look for a tree witha broad t runk, having rather del icate boughs hanging down on the

sunny side,near the trunk. S tand four or five yards from i t

,wi th

your back to the sun. You will find that the boughs between y ou

and the t runk of the tree are very indist inct,that y ou confound

them in places with the trunk i tself, and cannot poss ibly t race one

of them from i ts insert ion to i ts extrem i ty. But the shadows

which they cast upon the t runk, y ou will find clear, dark and dis

3

48 EXERCISES IN ELoom ozv.

t inet,perfectly traceable through their whole course, except when

they are interrupted by the cross ing boughs. And if y ou ret ire

backwards, y ou wi ll come to a point where y ou cannot see the

intervening boughs at all,or only a fragment of them here and

there,but can st i ll see thei r shadows perfect ly plain. New

,this

may serve to show y ou the immense prom inence and importance

of shadows where there is anything like bright l ight . They are,in

fact,commonly far more conspicuous than the thing which cas ts

them,for being as large as the casting object , and altogether made

up of a blackness deeper than the darkest part of the cast ing object

(while that object is also broken up wi th posi tive and reflectedl ights) , their large, broad, unbroken spaces

,te ll st rongly on the ey e,

especially as all form is rendered part ially,oft en totally invisible

within them,and as they are suddenly term inated by the sharpest

l ines which nature ever shows. For no outl ine of objects whatso

ever i s so sharp as the edge of a close shadow. Pu t your finger

over a piece of whi te paper in the sun,and observe the difference

between the softness of the out l ine of the finger itself and the decis ion of the edge of the shadow. And note also the excessive gloomof the lat ter. A piece of black cloth

,laid in the light

,wi ll not

at tain one- fourth of the blackness of the paper under the shadow.

Hence shadows . are in real ity,when the sun is sh ining

,the most

conspicuous thing in a landscape,next to the highest l ights. All

forms are understood and explained chiefly by thei r agency : theroughness of the bark of a tree

,for instance

, is not seen in the

l ight,nor in the shade ; i t is only seen between the two

,where

the shadows of the ridges explain i t. And hence,if we have to

express vivid l ight , our very first aim must be to get the shadowssharp and vis ible.

The second point to which I wish at present to di rect at tention

has reference to the arrangement of light and shade. It is the con

stant habi t of Nature to use both her highest l ights and deepestshadows in exceedingly small quant ity ; always in points , never inmasses. She wi l l give a large mass of tender light in sky or water

,

impress ive by its quant i ty, and a large mass of tender shadow

reli eved against i t , in fol iage, or h ill, or bu i lding ; but the l ight isalways subdued if i t be extensive— the shadow always feeble if i tbe broad. She wi ll then fill up all the rest of her picture withm iddle t ints and pale grays of some sort or another

,and on th is

50 50 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION.

N0, thank y ou, sir, I never drink.

Roger and I are exceedingly moral.Aren’

t we ROger ? see him wink.

Well,someth ing hot then, we won

’t quarrel .

He’s thirsty too— see him nod his head,What a pity, sir, that dogs can

'

t talk ;He understands every word that’s said,And he knows good milk from water and chalk.

The truth is,sir

,now I reflect,

I’ve been so sadly given to grog

,

I wonder I’ve not lost the respect

(Here’s to y ou, sir) even ofmy dog.

But he sticks by through thick and thin,And this old coat wi th its empty pockets

,

And rags that smel l of tobacco and gin,

He’ll follow whi le he has eyes in his sockets.

There i s n’t another creature li ving,

Would do i t,and prove

,through every disas ter

,

So fond,so faithfu l

,and so forgiving

,

To such a m iserable,thankless master.

No,sir ! see him wag his tai l and grin

By George I i t makes my old eyes water

That is,there’s something in this gin

That chokes a fellow,but no matter.

We’ll have some music if y ou are will ing,And Roger here (what a plague a cough is,

‘

sir)Shall march a l it t le. S tart

, y ou villain lPaws up l eyes front ] salute your ofli cer l

'Bout face ] at tent ion ! take your rifle !

(Some dogs have arms y ou see.) Now holdYour cap while the gent lemen give a trifleTo aid a poor old patriot soldier.

March ! Halt ! Now show how the Rebel shakesWhen he stands up to hear his sentence ;

EXERCISES IN .EL OCUTION .

Now tell how many drams it takesTo honor a jolly new acquaintance.

Five yelps, that's five—he

’

s m ighty knowing ;The night's before us, fi ll the glasses ;Quick

, sir l I’m ill

,my brain is going ;

Some brandy, thank y ou ; there,-i t passes.

Why not reform ? That’s easi ly said.But I

'

ve gone through such m atched treatment,Sometimes forgetting the taste of bread,And scarce remembering what meat meant

,

That my poor stomach’s pas t reform

,

And there are t imes when,mad with thinking,

I’d sell out Heaven for something warmTo prop a horrible inward sinking.

Is there a way to forget to think ?

At your age, sir, home,fortune

,friends

,

A dear gi rl's love ; but I took to drink ;The same old story, y ou know how i t ends.

If y ou could have seen these c lassic featuresYou needn’t laugh

,sir

,I was not then

Such a burning li bel on God's creatures ;I was one of y ou handsome men

If y ou had seen her, so flai r, so young,Whose head was happy on this breast ;

If y ou could have heard thesongs I sungWhen the wine went round, y ou wouldn

’t have

That ever I,sir

,should be st ray ing

From door to door, wi th fiddle and dog,Ragged and penni less, and playing

To y ou to-night for a glass of grog.

She’s married since, a person’s wife

,

‘Twas t etter for her that we should part ;Better the soberest prosiest l ife

Than a blasted home and a broken heart.

5 1

62 EXERCISES IN Enocm ozv.

I have seen her ? Once ! I was weak and spent

On the dusty road ; a carriage stopped,But li ttle she dreamed as on she went,Who kissed the coin that her fingers dropped.

You’ve set me talking, sir, I’

m sorry ;It makes me wi ld to think of the change.

What do y ou care for a beggar’s story ?

Is i t amusing ? y ou find it strange

I had a mother so proud ofme,'Twas well she di ed before. Do y ou know,

If the happy spi ri ts in Heaven can see

The ruin and wretchedness here below ?

Another glass, and strong to deadenThis pain ; then Roger and I will start.I wonder

,has be such a lumpish, leaden,

Aching thing,in place of a heart ?

He is sad somet imes,and would weep if he

No doubt remembering things that were

A virtuous kennel wi th plenty of food,

And himself a sober respectable cur.

I’

m better now ; that glass was warming.You rascal ! limber your lazy feet ]We must be fiddling and performing

For supper and bed,or starve in the street.

Not a very gay life to lead y ou thinkBut soon we shall go where lodgings are free,

And the sleepers need neither victuals or drink,

The sooner the better for Roger and me.

J. T. Trowbn'

dge.

A Sea Voyage.

To an American vis it ing Europe,the long voyage he has to make

is an excellent preparative. From the moment y ou lose sight ofthe land y ou have left, all is vacancy, unti l y ou step on the oppo

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION. 3

site snore, and are launched at once into the hustle and noveltiesof another world.I have said that at sea all is vacancy. I should correct the

expression. To one given up to day - dreaming, and fond of los ing

himself in reveries,a sea- voyage is full of subjects for meditat ion ;

but then they are the wonders of the deep,and of the air

,and

rather tend to abst ract the mind from worldly themes. I delightedto loll over the quarter- railing, or cl imb to the main—top on a calm

day , and muse for hours together on the tranquil bosom of a sum

mer’s sea ; or to gaze upon the pi les of golden clouds just peeringabove the horizon

,fancy them some fairy realms, and people them

with a creation of my own ; or to watch the gentle undulat ing billows rolling their silver volumes as if to die away on those happy

shores.There was a delicious sensat ion of mingled security and awe,

with which I looked down fi'

om my giddy height on the monsters

of the deep at their uncouth gambols ; shoals of porpoises tumbl ingabout the bow of the ship ; the grampus slowly heaving hi s hugeform above the surface ; or the ravenous shark

,dart ing l ike u

spectre through the blue waters. My imaginat ion would conjureup all that I had heard or read of the wate ry world beneath me ;of the finny herds that roam i ts fathomless valleys ; of shapelessmonste rs that lurk among the very foundat ions of the earth ; and

these wild phantasms that swell the tales of fishermen and sailors.

Somet imes a distant sail gl iding along the edge of the ocean

would be another theme of idle speculat ion. How interest ing this

fragment of a world hastening to rejo in the great mass of ex is

tence ! What a glorious monument of human invent ion, that has

thus triumphed over w ind and wave ; has brought the ends of the

earth in communion ; has establ ished an interchange of blessings,pouring into the sterile regions of the north all the luxuries of the

south ; diffused the l ight of knowledge and the charit ies of cult i

vated life ; and has thus bound together those scattered portions of

the human race, between which nature seemed to have thrown an

insurmountable barrier !We one day descried some shapeless object drift ing at a distance.

At sea,everyth ing that breaks the monotony of the surrounding

expanse, at tracts attention. It proved to be the mast of a ship

that must have been completely wrecked ; for the re were the

5 4 EXER CISES IN ELOCUTION.

remains of handkerchiefs,by which some of the crew had fastened

themselves to this Spar,to prevent thei r being washed ofl

’

by thewaves. There was no t race by which the name of the ship could

be ascertained. The wreck had evident ly drifted about for many

months,clusters of shell - fish had fastened about i t

,and long sea

weeds fiaunted at i ts s ides. But where,thought I

,i s the crew ?

Thei r struggle has long been over ;— they have gone down am idstthe roar of the tempest ;— their bones lie whiten ing in the cavernsof the deep. S ilence— oblivion— like the waves

,have closed

over them ; and no one can tel l the story of the i r end.

What sighs have been wafted after that ship i what prayersoffered up at the deserted fire- s i de of home ! How often has the

m istress,the wife

,and the mother

,pored over the dai ly news

,to

catch some casual intel ligence of this rover of the deep ! How has

expectat ion darkened into anxiety— anxiety into dread— and

dread into despai r ! Alas ! not one memento shall ever return forlove to cherish. All that shall ever be known i s

,that she sailed

from her port,

and was never heard ofmore."

Bible St . John, chapter IX.

And as Jesus passed by,he saw a man which was blind from

h is birth.

And his disciples asked him,saying

,Master

,who di d sin

,th is

man,or his parents

,that he was born blind ?

Jesus answered,N either hath this man s inned

,nor his parents

but that the works of God should be made manifest in him .

I must work the works of him that sent me,whi le i t is day

the n ight cometh,when no man can work.

As long as I am in the world,I am the l ight of the world.

When he had thus Spoken,he spat on the ground, and made

clay of the spit t le, and he ano inted the eyes of the blind man w i ththe clay.

And said unto him, Go, wash in the pool of S iloam (which isby interpretat ion, Sent) . He went his way , therefore, and washed,and came seeing.

The neighbors, therefore, and they whi ch before had seen him

that he was blind,said

,Is not this he that sat

‘

and begged ?

EXERCISE S IN ELOCUTION . 55

Some said, This is he : others said,He is like him : but he said

,

I am he.

Therefore said they unto him,How were thine eyes opened ?

He answered and said,A man that is called Jesus made a

clay,and anointed m ine eyes

,and said unto me

,Go to the pool

of S i loam,and wash : and I went and washed

,and I received s ight.

Then said they unto him,Where is he ? He said

,I know

not.

They brought to the Pharisees him that aforetime was blind.And i t was the Sabbath day when Jesus made the clay

,and

opened his eyes.Then again the Pharisees also asked him how he had recei ved

his s ight . He sai d unto them,He put clay upon m ine eyes, and I

washed,and do see.

Therefore said some of the Pharisees,Th is man is not of God

,

because he keepeth not theoSabbath day . Others said, How can a

man that is a s inner do such m iracles ? And there was a divis ion

among them .

They say unto the bl ind man again,What sayest thou of him

,

that he hath opened thine eyes ? He said,He is a prophet .

But the Jews di d not bel ieve concerning him,that he had been

blind,and received his s igh t, unt il they called the paren ts of him

that had received his s ight.

And then asked them,saying

,Is this your son

,who y e say

was born bl ind ? how then doth he now see ?

His parents answered them and said,We know that this is

our son,and that he was born bl ind :

But by what means he now seeth,we know not ; or who hath

Opened his eyes, we know not : he is of age ; ask him : he shallspeak for himselfiThese words spake his parents

,because they feared the Jews

for the Jews had agreed already,that if any man did confess that

he was Christ,he shou ld be pu t out .of the synagogue.

Therefore said his parents,He is of age ; ask him.

Then again called they the man that was blind,and said unto

him,Give God the praise : we know that this man i s a sinner.

He answered and said,Whether he be a s inner or no

,I know

not : one th ing I know,that

,whereas I was blind, now I see.

316


V i vrd Narrat i ve, ex em pl i fy i ng , aft er th e i ntroductory sen t encia

iS y m

p atahzt ic Horror, th en success i vel y ,

Terro r, Scorn, Revenge, orror

an we.

It was under the burning influence of revenge that the wife ofMacgregor commanded that the hostage, exchanged for her hus

band’s safety,should be brought into her presence. I believe her

sons had kept this unfortunate wretch out of her sight , for fear of

the consequences ; but if it was so,thei r humane precaut ion only

postponed his fate. They dragged forward, at her summons, a

wretch,already half dead with terror, in whose agonized features,

I recognized,to my horror and as tonishment, my old acquaintance

Morris.

He fell prostrate before the female chief wi th an effort to claspher knees

,from which she drew back, as if hi s touch had been pol

iut ica,so that all he could do in token of the extremi ty of his

humi liation,was to kiss the hem of her plaid. I never heard

entreat ies for life poured forth with such agony of spirit. The

ecstasy of fear was such, that , instead of paralyzing his tongue, as

on ordinary occasions, it even rendered him eloquent ; and, withcheeks as pale as ashes

,hands compressed in agony

,eyes that

seemed to be taking thei r last look of all mortal objects, he protested

,with the deepest oaths

,his total ignorance of any design on

the li fe of Rob Roy , whom he swore he loved and honored as his

own soul. In the inconsistency“

of hi s terror,he said he was but

the agent of others, and he muttered the name of Rashleigh. He

prayed but for life—for life he would give all he had in the world ;i t was but life he asked— l ife, if i t were to be prolonged under

tortures and privat ions,—he asked only breath though i t should

be drawn in the damps of the lowest caverns of thei r hi lls.It is impossible to describe the scorn

,the loathing

,and contempt

,

wi th which the wife ofMacgregor regarded this wretched pet it ionerfor the poor boon of existence.

“ I could have bid y ou live,”she said

,

“ had life been to y ou the

same weary and wast ing burden that i t is to me—that i t is to

every noble and generous m ind. Bu t y ou—wretch ! y ou could

creep through the world unaffected by i ts various d isgraces,i ts

inefi'

able m iseries, i ts constant ly accumulat ing masses of crime and

sorrow, y ou could live and enjoy yourself, while the noble-m inded

58 EZ ERCISES IN EL OCUTION.

Courtship under Difficul t ies.

Snebhleton. Yes, there i s that fel low Jones agai n. I declare,the man i s ubi qui tous. Wherever I go wi th my cousin P rudence

we st umble across him,or he fol lows her like her shadow. Do we

take a boating 'l So does Jones. Dowe wander on the beach

‘

6 So

does Jones. Go where we wi l l , that fel low fol lows or moves be

fo re. Now,that was a cruel p racti cal joke whi ch Jones once

p layed upon me at col lege. I have never forgi ven him . But I

would glad ly m ak e a pretence of doing so,i f I could have my

revenge. Let me see. Can’t I manage i t ? He i s head over ears

in love wi th Prudence, but too bashful to speak. I half beli eve

she i s not indi fferent to him,though altogether unacquainted. It

may prove a mat ch,i f I cannot spoi l i t . Let me think . Ha l I

have i t I A bri l li ant idea I Jones, beware 1 But here he comes.

(Enter Jonas.)Jones. (Not seeing Sm bbleton, and delighted ly contemp lating a

flower , which he holds in his hand .) Oh , rapt ure I what a pri ze !It was in her hai r—I saw i t fal l from her queenly head . (Ki sses i t

every now and then. ) How warm are i t s tender leaves from havingtouched her neck 1 How doubly sweet i s i t s perfume—fresh fromth e fragrance of her glorious locks I How beautiful 1 how—Blessme I here i s Snobbleton

,and we are enem ies l

Snobbleton. Good -morning, Jones— that i s, i f y ou wi l l shakehands.

Jones. What ! y ou— y ou forgi ve ! You real lySnob. Yes

, y es, old fel low I All i s forgotten. You p layed mea rough t ri ck ; but , let bygones be bygones. Wi l l y ou not burythe hatchet ?Jones. Wi th al l my heart , my dear fel low lSnob. What i s the mat ter wi th y ou , Jones ? You look qui tegrumpy—not by any means the same cheerful

,dashing

,roll i cking

fel low y ou were.

Jones. B less me, y ou don

’t say so I (Aside ) Confound the man IHere have I been endeavoring to appear romant i c for the lastmonth— and now to be cal led grumpy— i t i s unbearable lSnob. Bu t

,never mind . Cheer up

,old fol low ! I see it al l . I

know what i t i s to be in


Jones . Ah I y ou can then sympathize wi th me ! You know

what i t i s to be i h

Snob. Of course I do 1 Heaven p reserve me from the toi ls I

And then the letters—the interm inable letters 1

Jones. Oh, y es, the letters I the bi llet done

Snob. And the bi l ls—the endless bi l ls

Jones. The bi l ls

Snob. Yes ; and the bai liffs, the lawyers, the jud ge, and the j ury.Jones. Why

“

,man

,what are y ou tal king about i I thought y ou

sai d y ou knew what i t was to be i h

Snob. In debt . To be sure I did.

Jones. Bless me ! I’m not in debt—never borrowed a dol lar in

my li fe. Ah , me i t’

s worse than tha t.

Snob. Worse than that ! Come , now, Jones , there i s only one

thing worse. You’re su rely not in love ?Jo nes. Yes

,I am . Oh

,Snobby

,help me, hel p me Let me con

fide in y ou.

Snob. Confide in me I Certainly,my dear fellow I See ! I do

not shrink—I stand firm .

Jones. Snobby, I—I love her.

Snob. Whom ?

Jones. Your cousin,Prudence.

Snob. Ha P rudence Angelina Winter ?

Jones. Now,don’t be angry

, Snobby ! I don’t mean any harm,

y ou know. I—I—y ou know how i t i s.

Snob. Harm ! my dear fel low. Not a bi t of it . Angry ! Not

at al l . You have my consent , old fel low. Takeher. She i s y ours .

Heaven bless y ou both.Jones. You are very kind , Snobby, but I haven

’t got her con

sent y et.

Snob. Wel l,that i s something , to besu re. But

,leave i t all to

me. She may be a li tt le coy , y ou know ; but , considering your

generous overlooking of her unfortunate defect

Jones. Defect You su rp rise me.

Snob. What I and y ou di d not know of i t ?

Jones. N ot at al l . I am astoni shed l Noth ing serious, I hope.

Snob. Oh,no i only a. li tt le—(He taps his ! or wi th hi s fi nger,

knowingly .) I see, y ou understand i t .


Jones. Merci ful heaven can i t be 2 But real ly, is i t seri ous ?

Snob. I should think i t was.

Jones. What 1 But i s she ever dangerous ?Snob. Dangerous ! Why should she be ?

Jones. Oh,I percei ve A mere ai riness of brain—a gent le

aberrat ion—seem ing the dul l world—a mi ld

Snob. Z ounds, man ! she’s not crazy !

Jones. My dear Snobby, y ou reli eve me. What then ?Snob. S light ly deaf. That’s all .Jones. Deaf !

Snob. As a lamp-

post . That i s, y ou must elevate y our voi ce to

a considerable p i tch in spealdng to her.

Jones. Is i t possi ble However,I think I can manage. As

,for

instance,i f i t was my intention to make her a floral offering, and I

should say (elevating his om’

oe considerably ) , Mi ss, wi l l y ou make

me happy by accepting these flowers 2” I suppose she could hearme, eh How would that do

Snob. Pshaw Do y ou cal l that elevatedJones. Wel l, how woul d th is do (Speaks very loudly .)

“ Miss

wi l l y ou make me happy

Snob. Louder,shri l ler

,man

Jones. “ Mi ss,wi l l y ou

Snob. Louder, louder, or she wi l l only see you r lips move.

Jones. (Almost scream ing.)“ Miss

,wi l l y ou oblige me by accept

ing these flowers i”

Snob. There, that may do.

'

Sti l l, y ou want p racti ce. I per

ceive the lady herself i s approaching . Suppose y ou ret ire for a

short t ime, and I wi l l p repare her for the int roducti on .

Jones. Very good. Meant ime, I wi l l go down to the beach , andendeavor to acqui re the proper pi t ch . Let me see : “ Miss

,wi l l

y ou oblige me (Irb i t Jones.)(Enter PRUDENCE .)

Prudence. Good-morning,cousin . Who was that

,speaki ng

loudly '

l

Snob. Onl y Jones. Poor fel low,he i s so deaf that I suppose

fancies hi s own voi ce to be a mere whi sper.Pru. Why , I was not aware of this. Is he very deaf i’

Snob. Deaf as a stone fence. To be sure,he does not use

E x es CISES IN ELOC’UH ON . 61

ear-trumpet any more, but , one m ust speak excessively hi gh . Un

fortunate, too, for I beli eve he’s in love.

Pru. In love with whom ?

Snob. Can’t y ou guess ?

PM . Oh, no ; I haven’t the sli ghtest idea.

Snob. Wi th yourself He has been begging me to obtain him

an introduction.

Pm. Wel l , I have always thought him a ni ce- looking youngman. I suppose he woul d hear me if I shoul d say (spades loudly ) ,Good-morning, Mr. Jones ? ”

Snob. .Do y ou think he would hear that

Pru. Wel l,then, how would (speaks very loudbg) Good-morn

ing, Mr. Jones How would that do

Snob. Tush l he would think y ou were speaking under yourbreath.

Pru. (Almost scream ing.) Good-morningSnob. A mere whi sper, my dear cousin. But here he comes.

Now, do try and make y ourself audi ble.

(Enter JONES.)Snob. (Speaking in a high voice.) Mr. Jones, cousin. Mi ss Win

ter, Jones. Youwi l l p lease excuse me for a short time. (He reti resbut remainswhere he can view the speakers.)Jones. (Speaking shril l and loud .) Mi ss, wil l y ou accept these

flowers ? I p lucked them from their slumber on the hi ll.Pm . (In an equally hi gh voice.) Really sir

,I—I

Jonee. (Aside ) She hesi tates. It must be that she does not

hear me. (Increasing his tone.) Miss, wi ll y ou accept these flowers—rmwnas ? I p l ucked them sleeping on the hi ll—mm .

Pm. (Also increasing her tone.) Certainly,Mr. Jones. They arebeauti fu l—BEAU-u-Tm .

Jonas. (Aside ) How she screams in my ear. (Aloud ) Yes,I

p lucked them from thei r sl umber—annu al s, on the hi l l—1m .n.

Pru. (Aside ) Poor man, what an efl'

ort i t seems for him to

speak. (Aloud ) I percei ve y ou are poet i cal . Are y ou fond of

poet ry ? (Aside ) He hesi tates. I must speak louder. (I n a

scream .) Poetry—Pon'rnr— POETRY

Jones. (Aside ) Bless me, the woman wou ld wake the dead !

(Aloud ) Yes, Miss, I ad- o- r- e it .


Snob.Glori ous l glorious l I wonder how loud they can scream.

Ob; vengeance, thou art sweet IPru. Can y ou repeat some poetry

—POETRY

Jones. I only know one poem . It i s thi sYou

‘d scarce expect one of my age—AGE ,

To speak in publi c on the S tage—STAGE .

Pm . Bravo—bravo I

Jones. Thank y ou 1 THANKPru. Mercy on us 1 Do y ou think I

’m DEAF,si r ?

Jones. And do y ou fancy me deaf, Mi ss ? (Natural tone .)Pru. Are y ou not

,si r ? y ou surp ri se me 1

Jones. No,Mi ss. I was led to beli eve that y ou were deaf.

Snobbleton tol d me so.

P ru. Snobbleton 1 W hy , be told me that y ou were deaf.

Jones. Confound the fel low l he has been making game of us.Beadle

’

eDime Speaker.

The Front and Side Doors.

Every person’s feelings have a front - door and a si de- door by

whi ch they may be entered. The front - door i s on the st reet . Some

keep i t always open ; some keep i t lat ched ; some, locked ; some,bolt ed

,—wi th a chain that wi l l let y ou peep in ,

but not get in ;

and some nai l i t up , so that nothing can pass i ts threshold . Th is

front- door leads into a passage whi ch opens into an ante- room,

and thi s into the interior apartments. The side-door opens at

once into the sacred chambers.

There i s almost always at least one key to thi s side- door. This

i s carri ed for years hidden in a mother’s bosom . Fathers,bro

there, sisters, and fri ends, often, but by no means so universal ly,

have dup li cates of it.

The Relief of Lucknow.

O1 that last day in Lucknow fort ;We knew that i t was the last ,That the enemy’s mines had crept surel y in,And the end was coming fast .

To yi e ld to that foe meant worse than death,

And the men and we al l worked on ;

EXERCISES IN ELOC UTION .

It was one day more of smoke and roar,

And then i t woul d all be done.

There was one of us,a corporal’s wife

,

A fai r young gent le thing,

Wasted with fever in the s iege,

And her mind was wandering.

She lay on the ground,in her Scot tish plaid

,

And I took her head on my knee ;“ When my father comes hame free the pleugh, she said

,

Oh l please then waken me.

She slept l ike a child on her father’s floor,In the flecking of woodbine shade

,

When the house dog .sprawls by the half open door,And the mother’s wheel is stayed.

It was smoke and roar and powder stench,

And hopeless wait ing for death ;But the soldier’s wife, l ike a ful l t i red chi ld,Seemed scarce to draw her breath.

I sank to sleep and I had my dream

Of an Engli sh v illage laneAnd wal l and garden— t ill a sudden scream

Brought me back to the rear again.

There Jcssie Brown stood listen ing,And then a broad gladness broke

All over her face. and she took my hand,And drew me near and spoke :

“ The Highlanders ] Oi dinna y e hearThe slogan far awa ?

The McGregor’s ? Ah l I ken i t weel

It is the grandest of them a’.

63


God bless the bonny Highlanders ;We

’re say ed l we he saved 1" she cried ;

And fell on her knees, and thanks to God

Poured forth,like a full flood t ide .

Along the battery line her cryHad fallen among the men

And they started ; for they were there to die,Was l ife so near them then ?

..o

t i f

They listened,for l ife

,d the rat tl ing fire

Far off,and the far off roar

Were all,

and the co lone l shook his head,And they turned to thei r guns once more.

Then Jessie sai d,

“ The slogan’s dune

,

But can y e no hear them ,noo ?

The Campbells are com in l It’

s nae a dream,

Our succors hae broken through !”

We heard the roar and the ratt le afar,

But the pipers we could not hear ;So the men pl ied the i r work of hopeless war

,

And knew that the end was near.

It was not long ere i t must be heard,

A shri ll ing,ceaseless sound ;

It wlzis no noise of the strife afar

,

Or the sappers under ground.

It was the pipe of the Highlanders,

And now they played Auld Lang Syne ;"

It came to our men l ike the vo ice of God ;

And they shouted along the line.

And they wept and shook each other’s hands,And the women sobbed in a crowd ;

66 EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION .

IV.

But vi ctory ! vi ctory !Unto God all praise be rendered,Unto God all praise and glory be ;S ee,Boy Britton, see,Boy , see,They strike ! hurrah ! the fort has surrendered !

S hout ! shout ! my warrior boy ,And wave your cap, and clap your hands for joy .Cheer answer cheer, and bear the cheer about.

Hur rah ! hurrah ! for the fiery fort is ours.

Victory victory I” victory !Is the shout.

Shout ! for the fiery fort is ours, and the field,And the day are ours !

The day is ours, thanks to the brave endeavorOf heroes

,boy , like thee !

The day is ours, the day is ours !

G lory and deathless love to all who shared with thee,And bravely endured and dared with thee,The day is ours, the day is ours forever !

Glory and love for one and all,but

,for thee

,

Home ! home ! a happy welcome,welcome home

,for

And a mother’s happy tears, and a Virgin’sBridal wreath of flowers for thee.

Victory ! Victory !

But suddenly wrecked and wrapped in seething steam

The Essex slowly drifted out of the battle storm.

S lowly,s lowly

,down

,laden w ith the dead and dying

,

And there at the capta in's feet,among the dead and dying

The shot -marred form of a beautiful boy is lying,There in his uniform.

VI.

Laurels and tears for thee, boy ,Laurels and tears for thee ;

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTIGJ .

Laurels of light moist wi th the precious dewOf the inmost heart of the nation’

s loving heart,And blest by the balmy breath of the beaut iful and the true

,

Moist,moist with the lum inous breath of the s inging spheres,

And the nation’s starry tears ;

And tremble touched by the pulse- like gush and start,

Of the universal music of the heart,

And all deep sympathy.Laurels and tears for thee

,boy ,

Laurels and tears for thee,

Laurels of light and tears of love,

Forevermore for thee.

VII.

And laurels of light,and tears of truth

,

And the mant le of immortality ;And the flowers of love

,and immortal you th,

And the tender heart tokens of all true ruth,And the everlast ing victory.

And the breath and bliss of l iberty,

And the loving kiss of liberty.And the welcom ing light of heavenly eyes,And the over calm of God’s canopy ;And the infini te love- span of the skies

,

That cover the valleys of Paradise,For all of the brave who rest with thee ;And for one and all who died with thee,And now sleep side by side wi th thee ;And for every one who lives and diesOn the solid land, or the heaving sea,Dear warrior boy , like thee !

On,the victory, the vi ctory

Belongs to thee !God ever keeps the brightest crown for such as thou,

He gives i t now to thee.

67


Young and brave,and early and

.

thrice blest,

Thy count ry turns once more to kiss thy youthful brow,

Thrice,thrice

,thrice blest !

And takes thee gent ly, gent ly to her breast,And whispers lovingly, God bless thee, bless thee now

,

My darling thou shalt rest !

Bugle Song.

I.

The splendor falls on cast le walls,And snowy summi ts old in story ;

The long light shakes across the lakes,And the wi ld cataract leaps in glory.

Blow,bugle blow ; set the w i ld echoes flying ;

Blow,bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

II.

0 hark, Ohear ! how thin and clear,

And thinner,clearer

,farther go ing ;

0 sweet and far, from cliff and sear,The horns of Elf- land faintly blowing !

Blow ; let us hear the purple glens replying ;Blow

,bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dy ing, dying.

III.

0 love, they die in y on rich sky ,They faint on field

,on hi ll

,on river ;

Our echoes roll from soul to soul,

And grow forever and forever.Blow

,bugle

,blow ; set the wild echoes flying,

And answer,echoes

,answer dying

,dying

,dying.

Wi l lson.


Roll Call.Corporal Green ! the Orderly cried ;Here was the answer

,loud and clear,

From the lips of the so ldier who stood near,

And “ Here ! was the word the next replied.

Cyrus Drew then a silence fell,

This time no answer followed the call ;Only his rear-man had seen him fall

,

Ki lled or wounded,he could not tell.

There they stood in the failing li ght,These men of battle

,with grave, dark looks,

As plain to be read as open books,

While slowly gathered the shades of night.

The fern on the hill—sides was splashed with blood,

And down in the corn where the poppies grew

Were redder stains than the poppies knew ;And crimson- dyed was the river’s flood.

For the foe had crossed from the other sideThat day , in the face of a murderous fire

That swept them down in i ts terrible ire ;And thei r life- blood went to color the tide.

Herbert Kline ! At the call there cameTwo stalwart soldiers into the line

,

Bearing between them this Herbert Kline,

Wounded and bleeding, to answer his name.

“EzraKerr ! —and a voice answered,Here !

“ Hi ram Kerr !"—but no man replied.They were brothers, these two, the sad winds sighed,

And a shudder crept through the cornfield near.

“ Ephraim Deane ! —then a soldier spoke“ Deane carried our Regiment ’s colors,

"he said ;

“ Where our Ensign was shot, I left him dead,Just

'

after the enemy wavered and broke.

”

69

70 o EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION:

Close to the road- side his body lies ;I paused a moment and gave him drink ;He murmured his mother’s name, I thi nk,

And Death came with i t and closed his eyes.

'Twas a victory ; y es, but it cost us dear,For that company’s roll

,when cal led at night,

Of a hundred men who went into the fight,

Numbered but twenty that answered,“ Here !

Pyramus and Thisbe.

This t ragical tale, which, they say , is a t rue one,Is old ; but the manner is wholly a new one.

One Ovid,a wri ter of some reputat ion,

Has told i t before in a tedious narrat ion ;In a style

,to be sure

,of remarkable fullness

,

But which nobody reads on account of its dullness

Young PETER PYRAMUS—I call him Peter,Not for the sake of the rhyme of the meter ;But m erely to make the name completer

For Peter lived in the olden t imes,

And in one of the worst of pagan cl imesThat flourish now in clas sical fame

,

Long before either noble or boor

Had such a thing as a Christian name

Young Peter, then, was a nice young beauAs any young lady would wish to know :In years , I ween, he was rather g reen,That is to say , he was just eighteenA trifle too short

,a shaving too lean

,

But a nice young man as ever was seen,

And fit to dance with a May- day queen

Now Peter 'loved a beaut iful girlAs ever ensnared the heart of an earl

,


In the magical t rap of an auburn curl,

A li ttle Miss Thisbe,who lived next door

,

(They lived , in fact, on the very same floor,

With a wall between them and nothing more,

Those double dwellings were common of yore,)

And they loved each other,the legends say ,

In that very beaut iful,bountifii l way ,

That every young maid and every young bladeAre wont to do before they grow staid

,

And learn to love by the laws of trade.But (a- lack- a- day , for the girl and boy 1)A li ttle imped iment checked their joy ,And gave them awhile

,the deepest annoy

,

For some good reason,which history cloaks

,

The match didn’t happen to please the old folks !

So Thisbe’e father and Peter’s motherBegan the young couple to worry and bother

,

And tried thei r innocent passion to smother,

By keeping the lovers from seeing each other !But who ever heard of a marriage deterred

Or even deferred

By any contrivance so very absurdAs scolding the boy , and caging the bird ?Now

,Peter

,who was not discouraged at all

By obstacles such as the t im id appal,

Cont rived to discover a hole in the wall,

Which wasn’t so thick but removing a brick

Made a passage though rather provokingly small.Through this li ttle ch ink the lover could greet her,And secrecy made the ir court ing the sweeter

,

While Peter kissed Thisbe,and Thisbe kissed Peter

For kisses, l ike folks with dim inut ive souls,

Wi ll manage to creep through the smallest of holes !

’Twas here that the lovers, intent upon love,Laid a nice li tt le plot to meet at a spot

Near a mulberry- tree in a neighboring grove

4

71

72 .EXERCISES IN .ELOCUTION

For the plan was all laid by the you th and the maid,Whose hearts

,i t would seem ,

were uncommonly boldTo run off and get marri ed in spite of the old ones.

In the shadows of even ing, as st ill as a mouse,

The beautiful mai den slipped out of the house,

The mulberry- t ree impati ent to find ;Whi le Peter

,the vigilant mat rons to blind

,

S trolled leisurely out, some minutes behind.

Whi le waiting alone by the t rysting t ree,A terri ble lion as e

’er y ou set ey e on

,

Came roaring along qui te horri d to see,And caused the young mai den in terror to flee

,

(A lion’s a creature whose regular t rade is

Blood and a terrible thing amongAnd losing her veil as she ran from the wood

,

The monster bedabbled i t over wi th blood.

Now Peter arriving,and seeing the vei l

All covered o’er and reeking with gore,

Turned,all of a sudden

,exceedingly pale

,

And sat himself down to weep and to wail,

For,soon as he saw the garment

,poor Peter

,

Made up his mind in very short m eter,

That Thisbe was dead,and the li on had eat her !

So breathing a prayer,be determined to share

The fate of his darl ing,

the loved and the lost,

And fell on his dagger,and gave up the ghost !

Now Thisbe returning,and viewing her beau

,

Ly ing dead by her vei l (which she happened to know)She guessed in a moment the cause of his erring ;And seizing the kni fe that had taken hi s life

,

In less than ajifl'

y was dead as a herring.

M OR A L .

Ynang gentleman !— pray recollect , if. y ou please,Not to make appointments near mulberry- trees.

74 Exes arses IN ELOCUTION.

The cheerful mi lkmai d takes her stool ,And si ts and mi lks in the twi light cool,

Saying, So ! so, boss ! so ! so

To supper at last the farmer goes.The app les are pared , the paper read,The stories are tol d , then al l to bed.

Wi thout) the cri ckets’ ceaseless song

Makes shri l l the si lence al l ni ght long ;The h

_

e_a_vy dews are fal ling.

The housewi fe’s hand has tu rned the lock ;Drowsi ly ti cks the ki tchen clock ;The household sink s to deep repose,

But sti l l in sleep the farm-boy goes

Singing, cal ling,Co’, boss ] co

’

,boss ! co’ ! co’ ! co’

And oft themi lkmai d , in her dreams,Drums in the pai l with the flashing st reams,Murmuring, So, boss ! so !”

J. 2! W WW .

Put ting up Stoves.

Onewho has had consi derable experience in the work of put

t ing up stoves say s the first step to be taken i s to put on a veryold and ragged coat , under the impression that when he gets his

mouth ful l of p laster i t wi ll keep hi s shirt bosom clean. Nextjhe

gets hi s hands insi de the p lace where the p ipe ought to go, and

blacks hi s fingers, and then he carefullymakes a black mark down

one si de of his nose. It i s impossi ble to make any headway, in

doing thi s work, unti l thi s mark i s made down the si de of the nose.

Having got hi s face p roperly marked , the vi ct im i s ready t o beginthe ceremony. The head of the fam i ly—who is thebig goose of the

sacrifi ce—grasps one si de of the bottom of the stove, and h i s wi feand the hi red gi rl takehold of the other si de. In thi sway the load

is started from thewood - shed toward the parlor. Going throughthe door the head of the fami ly wi ll carefully swing hi s si de of the

stove around, and jam hi s thumb-nai l against the door- post. Thi s

part of the ceremony i s never omi tted. Having got the stove

EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION. 75

comfortably in place,the next thing is to find the legs. Two of

these are left insi de the stove since the spring before. The other

two must be hunted after for twenty-five minutes. They are

usual ly found under the coal. Then the head of the fami ly holds

up one side of the stove whi le hi s wife puts two of the legs in

p lace,and next he holds up the other side whi le the other two i s

fixed, and one of the first two fal ls out. By the time the stove i s

on i ts legs he gets reckless,and takes off hi s old coat regard less

of his linen. Then he goes off for the p i pe, and gets a cinder in

his ey e. It don’t make any difference how wel l the p i pe was put

up last year, i t wi l l be found a lit t le too short or a li t t le too long.

The head of the fami ly jams his hat over his ey es , and , taking a

pi pe under each arm,goes to the tin shop to have i t fixed. W hen

he gets back he steps upon one of the best parlor chairs to see if

the p i pe fits, and hi s wi fe makes him get down for fear he wi ll

scratch the varni sh off from the chai r wi th the nai ls in hi s boot

heel . In get ting down he wi l l su rely step on the cat,and may

thank his stars i f i t i s not the baby. Then he gets an ol d chai r,

and climbs up to the chimney again, to find that in cutt ing thep i pe off

,the end has been left too big for the hole in the chimney.

So he goes to the wood- shed,and sp lits one si de of the end of the

pi pe wi th an old axe, and squeezes i t in hi s hands to make i t

smal ler. Finally he gets the pi pe in shape, and finds that the

stove does not stand t rue. Then himself and wi fe and the hired

girl move the stove to the left , and the legs fall out again. Next

i t i s to move to the right . More difli culty wi th the legs . Movedto the front a l i t t le. Elbow not even wi th the hole in the chimney,and he goes to the wood-shed after some li tt le blocks. Whi le

putt ing the blocks under the legs, the pi pe comes out of the

chimney. That remedi ed , the elbow keeps t ipp ing over, to thegreat alarm of the wi fe. Head of the fam i ly gets the dinner- table

out,puts the old chai r on i t

,gets his wi fe to hold the chair

, and

balances himself on i t to dri ve some nai ls into the ceil ing. Drops

the hammer on to wife’s head. At last gets the nai ls driven,

makes a wi re-swing to hold the pipe, hammers a li tt le here, pul lsa li tt le there,takes a long breath, and announces the ceremonycomp leted.

Job never put up any stoves. It would have ruined hi s reputati on if he had.

76 EXER CIS E'

S IN ELOCUTION.

Tribute toWater.Pau l B en ton , a Meth od i s t preach er i n Texas ad vert i sed a barbecue .

wi th bet ter l iquor th an i s usua l ly furn ished . When t he p eo l e were assem bled , a d esperad o i n t he crowd wa lk ed up to h im , an cried ou t

M r. Den ton y our reverence has l ied . Y_

ou prom i sed no t on ly a goodbarbecue, but bet ter liquor . Where’s the l iquor ‘l f’

THERE !” answered the preach er, i n tones of th under, and p oi n t i nh i s m ot i onl ess fi nger at a spri ng gush i ng up i n two s trong colum ns , wi ta sound li k e a shout of joy , from t he bosom of the eart h .

THERE l” he repeated, with a look terrible as lightning,while

his enemy actually trembled at his feet ;“ there is the l iquor which

God,the E ternal, brews for all His children. N ot in the s immering

st i ll,over smoky fires

,choked wi th poisonous gases

,surrounded

with the stench of sicken ing odors and corrupt ions,doth your

Father in heaven prepare the precious essence of l ife—p ure, coldwater ; but in the green glade and grassy dell

,where the red deer

wanders,and the child loves to play

,there God brews i t ; and down,

low down in the deepest valleys, where the fountain murmu rs and

the ril ls s ing ; and high upon the mountain tops, where the naked

grani te gli tters l ike gold in the sun, where the storm - cloud broods

and the thunder- storms crash ; and far out on the wide, w ild sea

,

where the hurricane howls mus i c, and the big wave rolls the chorus,sweeping the march of God—there He brews i t

,that beverage of

life —health- giving water.“ And every where i t is a thing of l ife and beauty—gleam ing in

the dew- drop ; s inging in the summer rain ; shining in the ice-

gem,

t i ll the trees all seem turned to l iving jewels ; spreading a goldenveil over the sett ing sun

,or a white gauze around the m idnight

moon ; sport ing in the glacier ; folding i ts bright snow- curtain softlyabout the wintery world ; and weaving the many- colored bow,

that

seraph’s zone of the s iren—whose warp is the rain—drops of earth,whose woof is the sunbeam of heaven

,all checked over wi th celes

t ial flowers, by the myst ic hand of refract ion.

“ S t ill a lway s i t is beau t iful—that blessed l ife-water ! No

poisonous bubbles are on i ts brink ; i ts foam brings not madness andmurder ; no blood stains i ts liquid glass ; pale widows and starving

orphans weep not burning tears in its depths ; no drunkard’

s shrink

ing ghost, from the grave,curses i t in the worlds of eternal despai r !

Speak out,my friends : would y ou exchange i t for the demon’

s

drink,ALCOHOL ? A shout

,hike the roar of a temp es t, answered

,

No I John B . Gough.


Claribel’s Prayer.

The day , wi th cold, gray feet, clung shivering to the hills,Whi le o’er the valley st ill nigh t’s rain- fringed curtains fell

But waking Blue Eyes smiled,

’

Tis ever as God wi lll ;He knoweth best ; and be i t rain or shine.

’t is well.

Praise God cried always l ittle Claribel.

Then sank she on her knees,with eager, l ifted hands ;

Her rosy lips made haste some dear request to te ll0 Father sm i le

,and save this fai rest of all lands,

And make her free, whatever hearts rebel.Amen ! Praise God l” cried l ittle Claribel.

And,Father

,

’—st ill arose another pleading prayer,

O,save my brother, in the rain of shot and shell ;

Let no t the death- bolt,wi th i ts horrid

,stream ing hair

,

Dash light from those sweet ey es I love so well.

“ But,Father

,grant that when the glorious fight is done

,

And up the crimson sky the shou ts of Freedom swell,

Grant that there be no nobler victor ’neath the sun

Than he whose golden hai r I love so well.Amen ! Praise God ! " cried little Claribel.

When the gray and dreary day shook hands wi th -grayer night,The heavy air was fil led wi th clangor of a bell.0,shout !” the herald cried

,his worn eyes brimmed with light ;

’Tis victory ! 0

,what glorious news to tell !

Praise God ! He heard my prayer,”cried Claribel.

But,pray y ou, soldier, was my brother in the fight ?

And in the fi ery rain ? 0,fought he brave and well ?

Dear child,

”the herald cried

,there was no braver sight

Than his young form,so grand ’

m id shot and shell."

Praise God ! cried trembl ing little Claribel.

And rides he now with v ictor’s plumes of red,While trumpets’ golden throats his com ing steps foretell ?

The herald dropped a tear. “ Dear child,”he softly said

,

“ Thy brother evermore with conquerors shall dwell.”

Praise God ! He heard my prayer," cried Claribel.

78 EXERO'ISES IN ELOCUTION.

Wi th victors wearing crowns and bearing palms, he sai d,

A snow of sudden fear upon the rose l ips fell.0, sweetest herald, say my brother lives, she plead.“ Dear child

,he walks wi th angels

,who in strength excel

,

Praise God,who gave this glory, Claribel.

"

The cold,gray day died sobbing on the weary hills,

While bitter mourning on the night wind rose and fell.0, child,

”—the heraldwept,

as the dear Lord willsHe knoweth best, and, be i t l ife or death

,

’tis well.

"

“ Amen ! Praise God ! sobbed l i ttle Claribel.Lynde Pa lmer.

The Skeleton in ArmorThi s oem was sugges ted by t h e Round Tower at N c or t , now

claim by th e Danes, as a work of th eir ances tors .

Speak ! speak ! thou fearful guest !Who

,w ith thy hollow breast

S t i ll in rude armor drestComest to daunt me !Wrapt not in Eastern balm s

,

But wi th thy fieshless palmsS tretched

,as if asking alms

,

Why dost thou haunt me 7”

Then, from those cavernous ey esPale flashes seemed to rise

,

As when the N orthern skiesGleam in December ;

And, like the water

’s flow

Under December’s snow,

Came a dull voice of woe

From the heart’s chamber.

“ 1 was a Vik ing old !My deeds

,though m anifold

,

No Scald in song has told,

No Saga taught thee !

EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION.

Take heed, that in thy verseThou dost the tale rehearse

,

Else dread a dead man’s curse !

For this I sought thee.

“ Far in the Northern land,

By the wild Bal t i 'c's strand,

I,wi th my chi ldish hand,Tamed the ger- falcon ;

And,with my skates fas t - bound

,

Skimm’d the half- frozen Sound,

That the poor whimpering houndTrembled to walk on.

Oft to his frozen lai rTrack

'd I the grizzly bear

,

While from my path the bareFled like a shadow ;

Oft through the forest dark

Followed the were-wolf's bark,Unt i l the soaring la'

rk

Sang from the meadow.

“ But when I older grew,

Joining a corsair’s crew

O'er the dark sea I flewWi th the marauders.

Wi ld was the life we led ;Many the souls that sped

,

Many the hearts that bled,

By our ste rn'

orders.

Once as I told in gleeTales of the stormy sea

,

Soft eyes did gaze on me.

Burning out tender

80 EXER CISE S IN EL oc'Ufl c-M

And as the white stars shine

On the dark Norway pine,On that dark heart of m ine

Fell thei r soft. splendor.

Bright in her father's hal lShields gleam

’d upon the wall,

Loud sang the m inst rels all,Chant ing his glory ;When of old Hi ldebrand

I ask'd his daughter’s hand,Mute di d the m instrel stand

To hear my story.

While the brown ale hequaE’d

Loud then the champion laugh’d

And as the wind—gusts waft

The sea- foam bright ly,

So the loud laugh of scorn,Out of those lips unshorn,From the deep drinking- horn

Blew the foam li ghtly.

She was a Prince's chi ld,I but a V iking wild,And though she blush

’d and sm i led

,

I was di scarded !

Should not the dove so whiteFollow the sea-mew’

s flight,Why did they leave that night

Her nest unguarded 7

Scarce had I put to sea,

Bearing the mai d wi th meFairest of all was she

Among the Norsemen !

82 EXERCISES IN .ELOCUTION.

There for my lady’

s bower

Built I the lofty tower,Whi ch

,to thi s very hour,

S tands looking sea-ward.

There li ved we many years ;Time dried the mai den’

s tears ;She had forgot her fears,She was a mother ;

Death closed her m il d blueUnder that tower she l ies ;Ne

’er shall the sun arise

On such another !

S t ill grew my bosom then,

S t ill as a stagnant fen !

Hateful to me were men,

In the vast forest here,

Clad in my warli ke gear,Fell I upon my Spear

,

0,death was grateful !

“ Thus,seam

’d wi th my many scare

Burst ing these prison bars,

Up to its nat ive starsMy soul ascended

There from the flowing bowlDeep drinks the warrior’s soul ,Shoal ! to the Northland ! skoal I "

Thus the tale ended.


[From Fam i l y Cares and Fam i l y Joy a]TOOEOILIA.

I must give y ou portraits of all my flock of chi ldren ; who now,

having enjoyed their evening meal,are laid to rest upon their soft

pillows. Ah ! if I had only a really good portrai t— I mean a

painted one—of my Henrik, my first born,my summer ch ild

,as I

call him —because he was born on a m idsummer- day , in the sum

mer hours both of my life and my fortune ; but only the pencil ofa Correggio could represent those beautiful

,kind

,blue eyes, those

golden looks, that loving mouth, and that all so pure and beautifhl

countenance ! Goodness and joyfulness beam out from his wholebeing ; even although his buoyant animal life

,which seldom allows

his arms or legs to be quiet, often expresses i tself in not the mostagreeable manner, My eleven- years- old boy is, alas ! very—hisfather says—very unmanageable. S till, notwithstanding all his

w ildness, he is possessed of a deep and restless fund of sentiment,which makes me oft en tremble for his future happiness. God

defend my darling, my summer child,my only son ! Oh, how dear

he is to me ! Ernst warns me often of too partial an afi'

ection for

this chi ld ; and on that very account I will now pass on from

No. 1 to

No. 2.

Behold then the li tt le Louise, our eldest daughter, just turned tenyears old ; and y ou will see a grave, fair gi rl, not handsome, butwi th a round

,sensible face ; from which I hepe, by degrees, to

remove a certain ill- tempered expression. She is uncommonlyindustrious

,and kind toward her younger sisters

,al though very

much disposed to lecture them ; nor will she allow any Opportunity

to pass in which her importance as“eldest sister is not observed ;

on which account the li ttle ones gi ve her already the title of YourMajesty,

"and “ Mrs. Judge.

"The li ttle Louise appears to me one

of those who wi ll alway s be stil l and sure ; andwho, on this account,wi ll go fortunately through the world.

No. 3.

People say that my li ttle nine- years - old Eva is very like hermother. I hope i t may be a real resemblance. See

,then

,a little,

soft, round-about figure, which, amid laughter and merriment, rolls


hi ther and thi ther lightly and n imbly,with an ever- varying physi~

ognomy , which is rather plain than handsome, although li t up by apair of beaut iful dark- blue eyes. Quickly m oved to sorrow

,qui ckly

exci ted to joy ; good- hearted,flattering

,confect ion- loving

,pleased

with new and handsome clothes,and with dol ls and play ; great ly

beloved,too

,by brother and s isters

,as well as by all the servants ;

the best friend and playfellow,too

,of her brother. Such is the

li ttle Eva.

No. 4.

Nos. 3 and 4 ought not properly to come together. Poor Lenore

had a sickly childhood,and this rather

,I bel ieve

,than nature

,has

given to her an unsteady and violent temper,and has unhappily

sown the seeds of envy,toward her more fortunate s isters. She

is not deficient in deep feel ing, but the understanding is sluggish,and i t is extremely diffi cult for her to learn anything. All thisprom ises no pleasure ; rather the very oppos ite. The express ion

of her mou th,even in the uncomfortable t ime of teething

,seemed

to speak,

“ Let me be qu iet i” It is hardly possible that she can be

other than plain,bu t, with God

's help

,I hope to make her good

and happy.

My beloved,plain child ! say I somet imes to her as I clasp her

tenderly in my arms,for I would will ingly reconci le her early to

her fate.

No. 5.

But whatever will fate do with the nose of my Petrea ? This

nose is at present the most remarkable thing about her ; and if itwere not so large

,she really would be a pretty chi ld. We hope

,

however,that i t will moderate itself in her growth.

Petrea is a l ittle l ively gi rl, wi th a turn for almost everything,whether good or bad

,and with a dangerous des i re to make herself

remarkable,and to excite an interest. Her act ivi ty shows i tself in

destruct iveness ; y et she is good- hearted and most generous. In

every kind of foolery she is a most wi ll ing ally wi th Henrik and

Eva, whenever they wi ll grant her so much favor ; and if thesethree be heard whispering together, one may be quite sure thatsome roguery or other is on foot . There exists already

,however

,

so much unquiet in her, that I fear her whole life wi ll be such ; butI wi ll early teach her to turn herself to that whi ch can changeunrest into rest.

86 Zara’s 015 5 's IN ELOCUTION.

TheFace against thePane.

Mabel,l ittle Mabel,

Wi th her face against the pane,Looks out across the night,And sees the beacon lightA t rembling in the rain.

She hears the sea bird screech,And the breakers on the beachMaking moan

,making moan

,

And the wind about the eaves

Of the cot tage sobs and grieves,And the willow t ree is blownTo and fro

,to and fro

,

Till i t seems like some old crone

S tanding out there all alone wi th her

Wringing as she stands

Her gaunt and pals ied hands ;While Mabel

,t im id Mabel

,

Wi th her face against the pane,Looks out across the n ight

And sees the beacon l ightA trembl ing in the rain.

Set the table,maiden Mabel

,

And make the cabin warm,

Your li tt le fisher loverIs out there in the storm ;And your father

, y ou are weeping,O,Mabel

,t im id Mabel

,

Go spread the supper table,

And set the tea a steeping ;Your lover’s heart is brave

,

His boat is staunch and t ight,

And your father knowsThe peri lous reef

,

That makes the water white.

But Mabel,Mabel darling,

EXER IN ELOCUTION.

With her face against the pane,Looks out across the night

At the beacon in the rain.

The heavens are veined wi th fire !

And the thunder how it rolls !

In the lullings of the storm

The solemn church bell to llsFor lost souls !

But no sexton sounds the knell ;In that belfry old and high,Unseen fingers sway the bellAs the Wind goes tearing by !

How i t tolls, for the soul sOf the sailors on the sea.God pity them ! God pity them !Wherever they may be.

God pity wives and sweetheartsWho wait and wait in vain,And pity litt le Mabel,With her face against the pane l

A boom ! the light house gun,How it echoes, rolls and rolls,’Tis to warn home bound ships

01? the shoals.See, a rocket cleaves the skymom the fort, a shaft of light !See, i t fades, and fading leavesGolden furrows on the night !What makes Mabel’s cheek so pale 1

What makes Mabel’s l ips so white ?

Did she see the helpless sail

That tossing here and there

Like a feather in the air,

Went down and out of sight,

Down, down and out of sight ?

87

88 EXER CISES IN ELOCUTION.

0,watch no more

,no more

,

With face against the pane

You cannot see the men that drown

By the beacon in the rain I

From a shoal of ri chest rubies

Breaks the morning clear and cold,And the angel on the village spi re,Frost touched

,is bright as gold.

Four ancient fishe rmen

In the pleasant autumn air,

Come toiling up the sands,

With something in the ir hands.

Two bodies stark and whi te,

Ah ! so ghastly in the l ight,

Wi th sea weed in their hair.0,ancient fishermen

Go up to yonder cot !You’ll find a li tt le ch ildWi th face against the pane

,

Who looks toward the beachAnd looking sees i t not.She wil l never watch again

,

Never watch and wake at n ight,

For those pret ty saint ly eyesLook beyond the stormy skies

,

And they see the beacon light.

Mother and Poet.

Dsanl one of them shot by the sea in t he east ,And one of them shot in the west by the sea.

Dead ! both my boys ! when y ou si t at the feast,

And are wanting a great song for Italy free,

Let none look at me !

Yet I was a poetess only last year,And good at my art

,for a woman

,men said ;

z a am


And letters st ill came,shorter

,sadder

,more st rong,

Writ now but in one hand. I was not to faint.

One loved me for two ; would be wi th me ere longAnd “ Viva Ital ia" he died for, our saint,

“Who forbids our complaint."

My Nanni would add he was safe, and aware

Of a presence that turned ofi'

the balls,was imprest

It was Guido himself who knew what I could bearAnd how

’twas im possible

,quite dispossessed

To live on for the rest ”

On which without pause up the telegraph lineSwept smoothly the next news from Gaeta

Shot . Rflhis mother. Ah ! ah ! “ his,” “

their" mother,not mine.

N0 voice says my mother again to me. What !

You think Gui do forgot ?

Are souls straight so happy that, dizzy wi th Heaven,They drop earth’s e not ofwoe ?

I think not. Them s lately forgivenThrough that love and that sorrow that reconci les so

Abovegud Below.

0 Christ of the seven wounds, who lock’st thro

’the dark

To the face of thy mother ! consider I pray,How we common mothers stand desolate, mark

,

Whose sons not being Christ‘s, die with eyes turned aw ,

And no last word to say !

Both boys dead ! but that l s cut of nature. We all

Have been patriots, y et each house

Amust always keep one.

'Twere imbecile hewing out roads to a wall.And, when Italy

’s made

,for what end is it done

If we have not a son ?

Ah ! ah ! ah ! when Gaeta’s taken, what then ?

When the fair wicked queen sits no more at her sport

EXERCISES IN EL ooUTION.

Of the fire- balls of death,crashing souls out of men

,

When the guns of Cavalli wi th final retort,Have cut the game short.

When Venice and Rome keep their new jubilee,

When your flag takes all heaven for its green whi te and

When y ou have a count ry from mountain to sea,

When King Victor has Italy’s crown on his head,

And I have my dead,

What then ? not mock me. Ah ! ring your begs low,

And burn your; lights faint ly. My country is there, 4Above the star pricked by the last peak of snow ;My Italy

’s th

.

ere,wi th my brave civic pai r,

To disfranchi se despai r.

Dead ! one of them shot by the sea in the west,

And one of them shot in the east by the sea.

Both ! both my boys ! If in keeping the feast

You want a great song for your Italy free,

Let none look at me.

Oharge of the Light Brigade at Balaklava.

1.

Half a league, half a league,Half a league onward

,

All in the Valley of Death

Rode the S ix Hundred.Forward

,the Light Brigade !

Charge for the guns ! he said

Into the valley of DeathRode the Six Hundred.

II.

Forward,the Light Brigade l

Was there a man dismayed ?

Not though the soldier knew

Some one had blundered

91


Theirs not to make reply,

The i rs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do and di e :

Into the Valley of Death

Rode the S ix Hundred.

HI.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon in front of them,

Volleyed and thundered.

S tormed at wi th shot and shell:Boldly they rode and well ;Into the jaws of Death

,

Into the m outh of hell,

Rode the S ix Hundred.

Flashed all thei r sabres bare,

Flashed as they turned in air,

Sabring the gunners there,

Charging an army,whi le

All the world wondered.Plunged in the battery smoke

,

Right through the line they brokeCossack and RussianReeled from the sabre- stroke

,

Shat tered and sundered.Then they rode back

,but not,

Not the S ix Hundred.

V.

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon behi nd them,

Volleyed and thundered.Stormed at with shot and shell.While horse and hero fell

,


0,how I longed to burst away

From my dull task to the ou ter day ;But we were poor and I must stay.

So buzz buzz l—’twas very slow,

Drawing threads from the shining tow,

When the heart was dancing so.

Then hope went spinning a brighter thread,

On, on, through l ife’s long lane i t led

,

A path my feet should one day t read.So pleasant thoughts would t ime begu ile,Till my mother sai d, with beaming smi le“ My child may rest, I will reel awhile.

Rest ! twas the rest that childhood takes,

Off over fences and fragrant brakes,To the wilds

,where the earliest woodland flings

Spring of the year,and li fe

’s sweet spring

,

Words are poor for the thoughts y e bring.

But y e come together to me no m ore,

Your twin steps rest on the field of yore,Ye are m ine on yonder immortal shore.

Twas hard to leave those bright May days,The mossy path

,and leafy maze

For common work,and humdrum ways.

But my steps were turned,I was up the lane

,

Back to the buzzing wheel again,

My yarn had finished the ten knot skein ;And my gent le mother stroked my head,“ Your yarn i s very nice

,

"she said

,

It wi ll make a beaut iful tablespread.

You are my good girl to work so well ,Great thoughts my ch ildish heart would swell,’Till the happy tears l ike rain drops fell.I would toil for her

,I would gather lore

,

From many books 9m ighty store,

And pay her kindness o'er and o

’

er.

Elm a CIS ES IN ELOCUTI 6 1V. 95

She should work no more at wheel or loom,

My earnings should give her a cozy room,

Bright and warm for the winte r’s gloom,

A soft warm chair for her weary hours,

Books and mus ic,pictures

,flowers.

So the sweet dream ran,as the wheel buzzed on,

'Till the golden gleams of l ight were gone,And the chi lling rain came dripping down,Ah ! my heart has it e

'er been so

,

Cold clouds shading li fe’s sunniest glow,

Warm hopes drowned in the cold wave's flow.

In the same low room my mother pressed,

Each child to her“

soft ly heaving breast,And closed her eyes and went to rest.The old walls crumbled long ago,Hushed the big wheel

’

s buzzing slow,

Worn to shreds is the shining tow.

Yet with the burst ing leaves and flowerqThe gushing songs and pearly showers,Life brightens as in ch ildhood’s hours

,

And hope this golden morn in May

Spins golden threads that float awayTo a heavenly home that is bright for ay e.

Scrooge and Marley .

MARLEY was dead to begin with. There is no doubt whateverabou t that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman

,the clerk

,the undertaker

,and the chief mourner. Scrooge

s igned i t : and S crooge’s name was geod upon ’Change

,for any

th ing he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a

door- nail.

Mind ! I don't mean to say that I know,of my own knowledge

,

what there is particularly dead about a door- nail. I m ight. havebeen inclined

,myself

,to regard a coffi n- nail as the deadest piece

of i ronmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is5

as EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION.

in the simi le ; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or theCountry’s done for. You wi ll therefore perm i t me to repeat,emphat ically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

Scrooge knew he was dead ? Of course he did. How could i tbe otherwise ? S crooge and he were partners for I don’t know

how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor,his sole adminis

t rator his sole assi gn, his sole resi duary legatee, his sole friend, andsole mourner. And even S crooge was not so dreadful ly cut up bythe sad event, but that he was an excel lent man of business on thevery day of the funeral, and solemnized it wi th an undoubted bar

gain.

S crooge never painted out old Marley's name. There it stood,

years afterwards,above the warehouse door : S crooge and Marley.

The firm was known as S crooge and Marley. Somet imes people,

new to the business,called Scrooge,Scrooge, and somet imes Marley,

but he answered to both names : i t was all the same to him.

Oh ! But he was a t ight - fisted hand at the grindstone,Scrooge !

a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old

sinner ! Hard and sharp as fl int,from whi ch no steel had ever

struck out generous fire ; secret and self- contained,and soli tary as

an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features,nipped his

pointed nose,shriveled his cheek

,st iffened his gait ; made his eyes

red,his thin lips blue ; and spoke ou t shrewdly in his grating voice.

A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows,and his wi ry

chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with

him ; he iced his office in the dog~ days ; and didn’t thaw it one

degree at Christmas.

External heat and cold had li t t le influence on S crooge. No

warmth could warm,nor wintry weather chill him. No wind that

blew was bi tterer than he, no falling snow was more intent uponi ts purpose, no pelting rain less Open to ent reaty. Foul weatherdidn’t know where to have him. The heaviest rain

,and snow

,

and bail,and sleet, could beas t of the advantage over him in only

one respect. They often “ came down handsomely,and Scrooge

never did.Nobody ever stepped him in the st reet to say , with gladsomelooks

,My dear Scrooge, how are y ou ? when wi ll y ou come to

see me ? No beggars implored him t o bestow a trifle,no chi ldren

98 EXERC’ISE'S IN EL o0UTION.

(As you’ve somet imes seen

,in a l itt le ring

That hangs in his cage,a canary bird swing

And she held to her bosom a budding bouquet,And as she'enjoy ed it , she seemed to say ,

“ Pass ing away ! pass ing away 1"

III.

Oh, how bright were the Wheels, that toldOf the lapse of t ime as they moved round slow !

And the hands as they swept o’

er the dial of goldSeemed to point to the girl below.

And lo ] she had changed ;— ih a few short hours,

Her bouquet had become a garland of flowers,

That she held in her outstretched hands,and flung

This way and that,as she

,dancing

,swung

In the fullness of grace and womanly pr ide,

That told me she soon was to be a bride ;Yet then

,when expect ing her happiest day ,

In the same sweet voice I heard her say ,“ Passing away ] pass ing away 1"

IV.

W hile I gazed on that fai r one’s cheek,a shade

Of thought,or care

,sto le soft ly over

,

Like that by a cloud in a summer’s day made,

Looking down on a field of blossom ing clover.The rose y et lay on her cheek

,but i ts flush

Had something lost of i ts bri ll iant blush ;And the light in her ey e, and the l igh t on the wheelsThat marched so calm ly round above her

,

Was a l it t le dimmed as when evening stealsUpon noon

’

s hot face -

y et one couldn’

t but love her ;For she looked l ike a mother whose first babe layRocked on her breast

,as she swung all day ;

And she seemed in the same s ilver tone to say ,“ Passing away ! passing away 1”


V.

While y et I looked, what a change there came !

Her ey e was quenched,and her cheek was wan ;

S teeping and stali'

ed was her wi thered frame,

Yet just as bus ily swung she onThe garland beneath her had fallen to dust ;The wheels above her were eaten w i th rust ;The hands

,that over the dial swept

,

Grew crook’d and tarnished

,but on they kept ;

And st ill there came that s i lver toneFrom the shriveled l ips of the toothless crone

,

(Let me never forget , to my dying day ,The tone or the burden of that lay )

PASSING AWAY ! passmo AWAY !

Sheridan’s Ride.

I.

Up from the south at break of day ,Bringing to Winchester fresh di smay

,

The afl'

righted air wi th a shudder bore

Like a herald in haste,to the chieftain 3 door,

The terrible grumble and rumble and roar,

Telling the battle was on once more,

And Sheridan—twenty miles away.

II.

And wilder sti ll those billows of warThundered along the horizon’

s bar,

And louder y et into Winchester rolledThe roar of that red sea uncontrolled

,

Making the blood of the li stener coldAs he thought of the stake in that fiery

And Sheridan twenty m iles away.

III.

But there is a road from Winchester town,A good

,broad highway leading down ;

99


And there,through the flush of the morn ing light,

A steed,as black as the steeds of night,

Was seen to pass as w ith eagle fl ight

As i f he knew the terrible need,

He stretched away wi th the utmost speed ;Hil ls rose and fell— but hi s heart was gay ,With Sheridan fifteen mi les away.

IV

S t il l Sprung from these swift hoofs,thundering South,

The dust,l ike the smoke from the cannon’

s mouth,

Or the trail of a comet sweeping faster and faster,

Foreboding to t raitors the doom of disas ter ;The heart of the steed and the heart of the master

Were beat ing like prisoners assault ing thei r walls,

Impatient to be where the bat tle- field calls ;Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play

Wi th Sheridan only ten m iles away.

V.

Under his spurning feet,the road

Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed,

And the landscape sped away beh ind

Like an ocean flying before the wind ;And the steed

,l ike a bark fed with furnace ire

,

Swept on with his wild eyes full of fire.

But 10 ! he is nearing his heart ’s desireHe is snuifing the smoke of the roaring fray

,

With Sheridan only five miles away.

VI.

The first that the General saw were the groupsOf st ragglers

,and then the ret reat ing t r00ps

What was done—what to do— a glance told him both,

Then striking his spurs with a mut tered oath,

He dashed down the l ine '

mid a storm of huzzahs,

And the wave of retreat checked i ts course there becauseThe s ight of the master compelled it to pause.

With foam and wi th dust the black charger was gray ;


Gent. Ay , but their sense is shut .Phy . What is it she does now ? Look

,how she rubs her hands.

Gent. It is an accustomed act ion wi th her, to seem thus washingher hands ; I have known her cont inue in th is a quarter of an

hour.Lady M Yet here's a Spot.Phy . Hark ! she speaks.Lady M Out

,terrible spot ! out

,I say l—One : Two : Why,

then,

"t is t ime to do

’

t l—Hell is murky l—Fie

,my lord, fie ! a

soldier,and afeard ? what need we fear who knows i t , when none

can call our power to account ? - Yet who would have thought

the old man to have had so much blood in him ?Phy . Do y ou mark that ?Lady Ill . The Thane of Fife had a w ife ; where is she now ?

What,will these hands ne

’er be clean l—No more 0

’

that,my

lord ; no more 0’that ; y ou mar all wi th thi s starting.

Phy . Go to, go to ; y ou have known what y ou should not .

Gent. [She has spoke what she should not , I am sure of that ;

Heaven knows what she has known.

Lady M Here’s the smel l of the blood st ill : all the perfumes of'

Arabia will no t sweeten th is litt le hand. Oh ! oh ! oh !

Phy . What a s igh is there ! The heart is sorely charged.

Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom,for the digni ty

of the whole body.Lady M Wash your hands

, put on your night - gown ; look not

so pale I tell y ou y et again, Banquo’

s buried ; he cannot come

out of his grave.

Phy . Even so.

Lady M.

'

To bed, to bed : there’s knocking at the gate. Come

,

come, come, come, give me your hand : what’s done,cannot be

undone : To bed,to bed

,to bed.

Phy . Will she go now to bed ?

Gent. Di rect ly.Phy . More needs she the divine than the physician.

Look after her ;Remove from her the means of all annoyance

,

And sti ll keep eyes upon her.

Good Heaven,forgive us all I

Shakapem

EXERCISES IN ELOOUTION. 103

BRIEF EXTRACTS.

The Nature of True Eloquence.True eloquence does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought

from far. Labor and learning may toi l for i t, but they wi l l toi l invain. Words and phrases may be marshaled in every way , butthey cannot compass i t. It must exi st in the man

,in the subject ,

and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense exp ressi on, thepomp of declamation, al l may aspi re after i t ,— they cannot r each

i t . It comes, i f i t come at al l,li ke the outbreaking of a fountain

from the earth , or the bursting forth of vo lcani c fires,wi th spon

taneous , original , native force. The graces taught in the schools,the cost ly ornaments and studi ed contri vances of speech

,shock

and di sgust men, when thei r own l ives, and the fate of thei r wi ves,their chi ldren, and thei r country hang on the deci sion of the hour.Then words have lost their power, rhetori c i s vain, and all elabo

rate oratory contempt ib le. Even geni us i tself then feels rebukedand subdued , as in the presence of hi gher quali ti es. Then patriot

ism i s eloquent ; then self-devotion i s eloquent . The clear con

ception, out running the deduct ions of logi c, the high purpose, the

firm resolve,the daunt less Sp i ri t , speaking on the tongue, beaming

fromthe ey e, informing every feature,and urging the whole man

onward , ri ght onward , to hi s object ,—thi s, thi s i s eloquence ; or,rather, i t is someth ing greater and higher than al l eloquence : i t is

action, noble, sublime, God- li ke ac tion.

Dante! Webawr.

Self-Reliance.

Insis t on yourself ; never imi tate. You r own g ifi y ou can pre

sent every moment wi th the cumulat ive force of a whole l i fe’scult ivation ; but of the adopted talent of another y ou have only

an extemporaneous, half possession. That whi ch each can do

best,none but hi s Maker can teach him. N0 man y et knows

what i t i s,nor can, t i ll that pers on has exhi bi ted i t . Where is

the master who could have taught Shakspeare ? Where i s themaster who cou ld have instructed Frankl in

,or Wash ington, or

Bacon, or Newton'! Every great man i s a uni que.

Ralph Waldo Emerson.


The Brain.

Our brains are seventy-year clocks. The An gel of Life winds

them up once for al l , then closes the case, and gi ves the key intothe hands of the Angel of the Resurrect ion.

Ti c- tac ! t ic- tac l go the wheels of thought ; our wi l l cannot

stop them ; they cannot stop themselves ; sleep cannot st i l l them ;madness only makes them go faster ; death alone can break into

the case, and, seizing the ever- swinging pendulum ,wh i ch we call

the heart, si lence at last the cl i cking of the terri ble escapement

we have carri ed so long beneath our wrinkled foreheads.

The Burning Prairie.

I.

The prairie st retched as smooth as a floor,

As far as the ey e could see,And the sett ler sat at his cabin door

,

With hi s l it t le girl on his knee ;S triving her letters to repeatAnd pul l ing her apron over her feet.

11.

His face was wrinkled but not old,

For he bore an upright form,

And his shirt sleeves back to the elbow rolled,They showed a brawny arm.

And near in the grass wi th toes upturned,Was a pair of old shoes cracked and -burned.

A dog with his head betwixt his paws,Lay lazily dozing near,

New and then snapping his tar black jaws,

At the fly that buzzed in his ear.And near was the cow—pen made of rail s,And a bench that held two m ilking pails.


IX.

The wil d winds like a sewer sews,

The ground with sparkles red,

And the flapping wings of bats and crows,

And the ashes overhead ;And the bellowing deer

,and the hiss ing snake,

What a swirl of terrible sounds they make.

X.

No gleam of the river water y et,And the flames leap on and on

,

A crash and a fiercer whirl and jet,And the set t ler’s house is gone.

The air grows hot ; this fluttering curl,

Would burn l ikeflax,

”said the li t t le gi rl.

XI.

And as the smoke against her drifts,And the li zard slips close by her

She tells how the l it t le cow uplifts

Her speckled face from the fire.

For she cannot be hindered from lookingA t the fiery dragon on the ir track.

XII.

They hear the crackling grass and sedge,

The flames as they whir and rave,

On ! on ! they are close to the water’s edge ;They are the breast deep in the wave

,

And l ift ing t eir li t tle ones high o’er the tide,

We’re saved

,thank God, we

’re saved,

”they

The Pied Piper of Hamelin.

Hamelin Town’

s in Brunswick,

By famous Hanover city ;The ri ver Weser

,deep and. wide

,

Washes i ts wall on the sou thern side ;


A pleasanter spot y ou never spied ;But, when begins my di tty,Almost five hundred years ago,To see the townsfolk sufl

‘

er so

From vermin, was a pity .

Rats !They fought the degs

,and killed the cats

,

And bit the babies in the cradles,And ate the cheeses out of the vats ,And licked the soup from the cook’s own

Split open the kegs of salted Sprats,Made nests inside men’

s Sunday hats,And even spoi led the women’

s chatS,

By drowning their speaking

With shrieking and squeakingIn fifty di fferent sharps and flats.

At last the people in a body

To the Town Hall came flocking :

T is clear," cried they

,our May or

'

s a noddyAnd as for our Corporat ion

,shocking

To think we buy gowns l ined wi th erm ineFor dolts that can’

t or won’t determ ine

What’s best to rid us of our verm in !

You hepe, because you’re old and obese

,

To find in the furry civi c robe ease

Rouse up, S irs l Give your brains a racking

To find the remedy we’re lacking,Or

,sure as fate

,we'll send y ou packing 1

At this the Mayor and Corporation

Quaked with a m ighty consternation.

An hour they sat in counci l,At length the Mayor broke silence ;For a gu ilder I’d my erm ine gown sell ;I wish I were a m ile hence !

It’s easy to bid one rack one’s brain

,

I’m sure my poor head aches again,I've scratched it so

,and all in vain.


Ofor a trap,a t rap, a t rap i

Just as he said this,what should hap

At the chamber door,but a gentle tap !

Bless us,

" cried the Mayor,what’s that ?

Anythi ng like the sound of a rat

Makes my heart go pi t a pat i”

“ Come in ! the Mayor cri ed,looking bigger

And in did come the strangest figure ;His queer

,long coat from heels to head

Was half of yellow and half of red;And he himself was tall and thin,Wi th sharp blue eyes

,each like a pin,

And li ght,loose hair

, y et swarthy skin,No tuft on cheek nor beard on chi n,But l ips where sm i les went out and in

,

There was no guessing hi s kith or kin ;And nobody could enough adm ire

The tall man and his quaint at t ire ;Quoth one : It

’

s as m y great - grand- si re,

S tart ing up at the Trump of Doom ’s tone

,

Had walked this way from his painted tomb stone !He advanced to the council - table

And,

“ P lease your honors,

sai d he,I’m able

,

By means of a secret charm,to draw

All creatures l i ving beneath the sun,

That creep,or swim,

‘

or fly,or run

,

After me so as y ou never saw !

And I chi efly use my charm

On creatures that do people harm,

The mole,and toad

,and newt

,and v iper ;

And people call me the Pied Piper,

"

“ Yet,

”said he

,poor piper as I am

,

In Tartary I freed the Cham

Last June from his huge swarms of gnats ;I eased in As ia the N i zam

Of a monstrous breed of vampyre- batsAnd

,as for what your brain bewilders

,

If I can rid your town of rats

Wi ll y ou give me a thousand gui lders ?

110 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTI ON .

The Piper’s face fell,and he cried,

“ No t rifling ! Folks who put me in a passion

May find me pipe to another fashion.

"

Once more he stept into the street ;And to his lips againLaid his long pipe of smooth straight cane ;And ere he blew three notes

,

There was a rust ling,that seemed like a bust l ing

Of merry crowds justl ing at pi tching and hust l ing,

Smal l feet were pat tering,wooden shoes clattering

,

Little hands clapping, and l itt le tongues chat tering,And

,like fowls in a farm- yard when barley is scat teri ng,

Out came the children running.All the l it tle boys and girls

,

W ith rosy cheeks and fiaxen curls,

And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,

Tripping and skipping,ran merri ly after

The wonderful musi c wi th shout ing and laughter.When 10 ! as they reached the mountain’

s s i de,

A wondrous portal opened W ide,As if a cavern was suddenly hol lowed ;And the P iper advanced and the children followed

,

And when all were in to the very last,

The door in the mountain side shut fast,

Alas I alas for Hamel in !There came into many a burgher’s pateA text which says

,that Heaven’

s GateOpes to the Rich at as easy rate

As the needle’s ey e takes a camel in !The Mayor sent East

,West

,N orth and South

To offer the Piper by word of mouth,

Wherever i t was men’s lot to find him

,

S ilver and gold to his heart’s content,

If he’d only return the way he went ,

And bring the chi ldren behind him .

But soon they saw’

t was a lost endeavor,

And Piper and dancers were gone forever.

EXERCISES IN ELOC UTION. 1 1 1

And the better in memory to fix

The place of the Ch ildren'

s last retreat,

They called i t,the P ied Piper’s S treet,

Where any one playing on pipe or tabor

Was sure for the fu ture to lose his labor.And opposi te the place of the cavern

They wrote the story on a column,

And on the Great Church Window painted

The same,to make the world acquainted

How thei r children were stolen away ;And there i t stands to this very day .

Robert B rowning.

Psalm

Lonn,thou hast been our dwel ling place in all generations.

Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst

formed the earth and the world,even from everlasting to everlas t

ing, thou art God.

Thou turnest man to destruction ; and sayest, Return, y e childrenof men.

For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when i t

is past,and as a watch in the night .

Thou carriest them away as with a flood ; they are as a sleep ;in the morning they are like grass which groweth up.

In the morning it flourisheth,and groweth up ; in the evening

i t is cut down, and withereth.

For we are consumed by thine anger,and by thy wrath are we

troubled.Thou hast set our iniqui ties before thee

,our secret sins in the

light of thy countenance.

For all our days are passed away in thy wrath : we spend our

years as a tale that is told.

The days of our years are threescore years and ten ; and i t

by reason of strength they be fourscore years, y et is thei r st rength

labor and sorrow ; for i t is soon cut off,and we fly away.

Who knoweth the power of thine anger ? even according to thyfear

,so is thy Wrath .

So teach us to number our days,that we may apply our hearts

unto wisdom.

1 12 EXERCISE S IN E LOCUTION .

Return,0 Loan

,how long ? and let i t repent thee concerning

tny servants.

Osat isfy us early with thy mercy ; that we may rejoice and be

glad all our days.Make us glad according to the days wherein thou has t afflicted

us,and the years wherein we have seen evil.

Let thy work appear unto thy servants,and thy glory unto their

chi ldren.

And let the beauty of the Loan our God be upon us : and estab

lish thou the work of our hands upon us ; y ea, the work of our

hands establish thou i t.

Ivry .Now glory to the Lord of Hosts

,from whom all glories are !

And glory to our sovere ign l iege, King Henry of Navarre !Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance

,

Through thy cornfields green,and sunny vines

,Opleasant land of

France !And thou

,Rochelle

,our own Rochelle

,proud city of the waters

,

Again let rapture l ight the eyes of all thy murmuring daughters ;As thou wert constant in our i lls

,be joyous in our joy ;

For cold and st iff and st ill are they who wrought thy walls annoy .Hurrah ! Hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of War !

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! for Ivry,and Henry of Navarre.

Oh ! how our hearts were beat ing,when

,at the dawn of day ,

We saw the army of the Leann e drawn out in long array ;With all i ts priest - led cit i zens

,ahd all i ts rebel peers

,

And Appenzel’

s stout infant ry,and Egmont

’

s Flem ish spears.

There rode the brood of false Lorraine,the curses of our land ;

And dark Mayenne was in the m idst,a truncheon in his hand ;

And, as we looked on them ,we thought orAEine’s gnpurpled flood

,

And good Co ligni’s hoary hai r all dabbled wi th his blood ;And we cried unto the li ving God, who rules the fate of war,To fight for His own holy name

,and Henry of Navarre.

The King is come to marshal us, in all his armor dressed ;And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest.

1 14 EXER CISES IN ELOCUTION .

Up with i t high ; unfurl i t wide that all the host may know

How God hath humbled the proud house which wrough t his church

such woe.

Then on the ground,while trumpets sound thei r loudest point of

war,

Fling the red shreds,a foot - cloth meet for Henry of Navarre.

Ho ! maidens of Vienna ! ho ! matrons of Lucerne

Weep,weep

,and rend your hai r for those who never shall return.

Ho ! Phil ip, send, for chari ty, thy Mex i can pistoles,That Antwerp monks may s ing a mass for thy poor spearmen

’s

souls.Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be brigh t ;Ho l burghers of S t . Genev ieve, keep watch and ward to- night ;For our God hath crushed the ty rant, our God hath raised the slaveAnd mocked the counsel of the wise

,and the valor of the brave.

Then glory to His holy name,from whom all glories are ;

And glory to our sovereign lord,King Henry of Navarre !

l il acaulay .

Gaffer Gray .

I Ho ! why dost thou shiver and shake,Gafl

'

er GrayH eafl i ly '

[And why does thy nose look so blue 7"

“ ’

Tis the weather that’s cold,

’Tis I

’

m grown very old,And my doublet is not very new ; Well - a—day l

Then l ine thy warm doublet wi th ale, Gafl'

er Gray,

And warm thy old heart with a glass !Nay , but credit I

’

ve none,

And my money’

s all gone ;Then say how may that come to pass —Well—a—day l

“ Hie away to the house on the brow,Gaffer Gray

,

And knock at the jolly priest’s door.“ The priest often preaches“ Against worldly riches,But ne

’

er gives a mi te to the poor,Well- a- day !

E rmaCI SES IN ELOCUTION . 1 15

“ The lawyer l ives under the hi ll,Gafl

'

er Gray ;Warmly fenced both in back and in front. "

He will fasten his locksAnd threaten the stocks

,

Should he ever more find me in want ; - Well- a- day l

“ The squi re has fat beeves and brown ale Gaffer Gray ;And the season will welcome y ou there.“ His fat beeves and his beerAnd his merry new year

,

Are all for the flush and the fai r,—Well- a- day l

“ My keg is but low,I confess

,Gad‘

er Gray ;What then ? whi le it lasts

,man

,we'll live !

The poor man alone,

When he hears the poor moan,

Of his morsel a morsel wi ll give,Well- a- day !

Holcrofl.

Auld Robin Gray .

War-m the sheep are in the fauld,and the ky e at hame,

And a’the warld to sleep are gane

,

The waes 0’ my heart fa’in showers free my cc

,

When my gudeman lies sound by me.

Young Jam ic lo’ed me weel,and socht me for his bride

,

But ,saving a croun,he had naething else bes ide :To mak

’that croun a pund, young Jam ie gaed to sea

,

And the cronn and the pund were bai th for me.

He hadna’ been awa a week but only twa,

When my mother she fell sick, and the cowwas stown awa

My father brak his arm,and young Jamie at the sea,

And Auld Robin Grey cam ’a—court in me.

My father couldna work,and my mother couldna spin,

I toi led day and ni cht,but thei r bread I couldna win

,

Auld Rob maintained them baith,and wi

’

tears in his ee.Said

,

“ Jennie,for thei r sakes, oh, marry me ! "

1 16 .E I ERC'ISES IN Ew CUTION.

My heart it said nay , for I looked for Jam ie back

But the w ind i t blew high,and the ship i t was a wrack !

The sh ip i t was a wrack— why didna Jennie dee ?

Or why do I live to say , Wae'

s me

My father argued sair my mother di d na speak,

But she lookit in my face ti l l my heart was like to break ;Sae they gied him my hand, though my heart was in the sea

And Auld Robin Gray was gudeman to me.

I hadna been a wife a week but only four,When si tting sae mournful ly at the door,I saw my Jamie

’s wrai th

,for I couldna thi nk i t he

Till he said,I’m come back for to marry thee.

0 sair did we greet, and muckle did we say ;We took but se kiss

,and we tore ourselves away ;

I wish I were dead ! but I’m no like to dee ;And why do I live to say , Wae

’

s me ?

I gang like a ghaist,and I care na to spin ;

I daur us thi nk on Jam ie,for that wad be a sin ;

But I'll do my best a gude wife to be,For Auld Robin Gray is kind un to me.

Lady Anne B arnard

Christian Mariner’s Hymn.

LAUNCH thy bark, Mariner ;Christian

,God speed thee !

Let loose the rudder- bands ;Good angels lead thee !

Set thy sai ls warily,

Tempest wi ll come ;S teer thy course steadi ly ;Chris tian, steer home !

Look to the weather-bow,

Breakers are round thee ;Let fall the plummet now

,

Shallows may ground thee.

1 1 3 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION.

Scenes from the Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life.

Tun ri te of bapt ism had not been performed for several months atthe kirk of Lanark. It was now the hot test t ime of persecution ;and the inhabitants of that parish found other places in which to

worship God,and celebrate the ordinances of rel igion. I t was the

Sabbath day ,—and a smal l congregat ion, of about a hundred souls,

had met for divine service in a place of worship more magn ificent

than any temple that human hands had ever built to Dei ty. Here,

too,were three chi ldren about to be bapt ized. The congregat ion

had not assembled at the toll of the bell ; bu t each heart knew the

hour and observed i t ; for there are a hundred sun- dials amongthe hills

,woods

,moors and fields

,and the shepherds and the peas

ants see the hours pass ing by them in sunshine and shadow.

The church in which they were assembled was hewn by God’shand out of the eternal rocks. A river rolled i ts way through a

m ighty chasm of cl ifi‘

s,several hundred feet high

,of which one s ide

presented enormous masses,and the other corresponding recesses,

as if the great stone girdle had been rent by a convuls ion. The

channel was overspread with prodigious fragments of rocks or large

loose stones,some of them smooth and bare

,others containing soi l

and verdure in thei r rents and fissures, and here and there crowned

wi th shrubs and treesThe ey e could at once command a long stretching vista

,seem

ingly closed and shut up at both extrem it ies, by the coalescing cliffs.This majest ic reach of river contained pools

,streams

,rushing shelves

,

and waterfalls innumerable ; and when the water was low,which i t

now was in the common drought,i t was easy to walk up this scene

wi th the calm blue sky overhead,an u tter and sublime soli tude.

On looking up, the soul was bowed down by the feel ing of thatprodigious heigh th of unscalable and often overhanging cliffs. Wingedcreatures alone could inhabit this region. The fox and wild- cat

chose more access ible haunts. Yet,here came the persecuted

Chris tians, and worshiped God, whose hand hung over their heads

those magnificent pillars and arches,scooped out those galleries

from the solid rock,and laid at the i r feet the calm water in i ts

transparent beauty, in which they could see themselves s i tt ing inreflected groups

,with their Bibles in thei r hands.

EXERCISES IN ELOC UTION . 1 19

The ri te of bapt ism was over,and the religious serv1ce of the day

closed by a psalm. The m igh ty rocks hemmed in the holy sound,

and sent i t,in more compactedvolume, clear, sweet, and st rong

,up

to heaven. When the psalm ceased,an echo

,l ike a spiri t's voice

,

was heard dying away high up among the magnificent architecture

of the cliffs,and once more m ight be not iced in the s ilence the

reviv ing voice of the waterfall.

Just then a large stone fell from the top of the clifi'

into the pool ,a loud vo ice was heard

,and a plaid hung over on the point of a

shepherd’s stall . Thei r watchful sent inel had descried danger, and

this was his warning. Forthwith the congregat ion rose. There

were paths dangerous to unpract iced fee t,along the ledges of the

rocks,leading up to several caves and places of concealment. The

more acti ve and young assisted the elder, more especially the old

pastor,and the women with infants ; and many m inu tes had not

e lapsed t i ll not a living creature was vis ible in the channel of the

stream ,but all of them hidden

,or nearly so

,in the clefts of

the caverns.

The shepherd who had given the alarm had laid down again in

his plaid instant ly on the green sward upon the summ i t of these

precipices. A party of soldiers were immedi ately upon him . and

demanded what s ignals he had been making,and to whom ; when

one of them ,looking over the edge of the clifi

’

,exclaimed

,

“ See,

see l Humphrey, we have caugh t the whole tabernacle of the Lord

in a net at last . There they are,prais ing God among the stones of

the river Mouss. These are the Cartland Craigs. By my soul’ssalvat ion

,a noble cathedral !

" “ Fling the lying sentinel over thecliff s.

Here is a cant ing covenanter for y ou, deceiving honest sol

diers on the very Sabbath day . Over w ith him,over wi th him ;

out of the gallery into the pi t."

But the shepherd had vanished like a shadow ; and, m ixing with

the tal l green broom and bushes, was making his unseen way

toward a wood. “ Satan has saved his servant ; but come, my lads,follow me ; I know the way down into the bed of the stream— and

the steps up to Wallace’s Cave. They are cal led the ‘Ki t tle N ine

S tanes.’The hunt’s up. We

’ll all be in at the death . Halloo, myboys

,halloo

6

1 20 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION .

The soldiers dashed down a less precipi tous part of the wooded

bank,a li ttle below the “ craigs

,and hurried up the channel. But

when they reached the altar where the old gray- haired m inister had

been seen standing, and the rocks that had been covered wi th

people,all were silent and solitary ; not a creature to be seen.

Here is a Bible dropped by some of them ,

" cried a soldier, and, wit h

his foot,spun i t away into the pool. “ A bonnet, a bonnet , cried

another ;“now for the pret ty sanct ified face that rolled i ts demure

eyes below i t .”

But after a few jests and oaths,the soldiers stood st ill, eying

w ith a kind of mysterious dread the black and s ilent walls of the

rock that hemmed them in,and hearing only the smal l voice of

the stream that sent a profounder st illness through the heart of that

majest ic sol itude.

“ Curse these cowardly covenanters—what if

they tumble down upon our heads pieces of rock from thei r h iding

places ? Advance ? or retreat ?There was no reply. For a sl ight fear was upon every man ;

musket or bayonet could be of l i t tle use to men obli ged to clamber

up rocks,along slender paths, leading, they knew not where ; and

they were aware that armed men,now—a-days

,worshiped God

men of i ron hearts, who feared not the glitter of the soldier’

s arms,

nei ther barrel nor bayonet—men of long stride,firm step

,and broad

breast,who

,on the Open field

,would have overthrown the mar

shalled l ine,and gone first and foremost

,if a ci ty had to be taken

by storm.

As the soldiers were standing together i rresolute, a noise came

upon their ears l ike distant thunder, but even more appalling ; and

a slight current of air,as if propelled by i t

,passed whispering along

the sweet - briars, and the broom ,and the tresses of the birch trees.

I t came deepening, and roll ing, and roaring on,and the very Cart

land Craigs shook to their foundat ion,as if wi th an earthquake.

“ The Lord have mercy upon us—what is this ? " And down fellmany of the m iserable wretches on thei r knees

,and some on thei r

faces,upon the sharp - pointed rocks. Now

,i t was l ike the sound

of many myriads of chariots roll ing on thei r i ron axles down thestony channel of the torrent.The old gray- hai red m inister issued from the mou th of Wallace’s

Cave,and said

,wi th a loud voice

,

“ The Lord God terrible re ign

122 EXERCISE S IN EL oaUTIOM

See the smoke,how the l ightning is cleaving asunder !

Hark ! the guns,peal on peal

,how they boom in thei r thunder

,

From host to host wi th kindling sound,The shouted signal circles round ;Freer already breathes the breath !The war is waging

,slaughter raging

,

And heavy through the reeking pal l

The i ron death- dice fal l I

Nearer they close—foes upon foesReady l ”—from square to square i t goes

They kneel as one man from flank to flank ,And the fire comes sharp from the foremost rank.Many a soldier to earth is sent

,

Many a gap by ball is rent ;O’er the corpse before springs the bindest man

,

That the line may not fall to the fearless van.

To the righ t,to the left

,and around and around

,

Death whirls in i ts dance on the bloody ground.God’s sunl ight is quenched in the fiery fight,Over the hosts falls a brooding night ]

Brothers,God grant

,when th is l ife is o’

er,

In the l ife to come we may m eet once more.The dead men are bathed in the welte

‘

ring blood

And the l i ving are blent in the sl ippery flood,

And the feet, as they reel ing and sl i ding go,S tumble st ill on the corpse that sleeps below“ What ? Francis ] Give Charlot te my last farewelLAs the dying man murmurs

,the thunders swell

“ I'll give—0 God ! are the g uns so near ?Ho ! comrades l- y on volley l—look sharp to the rear !I’ll gi ve to thy Charlot te thy last farewell !S leep soft l where death thickest descendeth in rain,The friend thou forsaketh thy side may regain l

"

H i therward,th itherward reels the figh t ;

Dark and more darkly day gloom s in to nigh t.Brethren

,God grant

,when this l ife is o'er

,

In the life to come that we meet once more !

EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION .

Hark to the hoofs that galloping go !The adjutants fly ing

The horsemen press hard on the panting foe,

Their thunder booms in dy ing

Victory !Tremor has seized on the dastards all,

And their leaders fall 1Victory

Closed is the brunt of the glorious fight ;And the day , l ike a conqueror, bursts on the night !

Trumpet and li fe swelling choral along,

The t riumph already sweeps marching in song.

Farewell,fallen brothers ; though th is l ife be o

’er

,

There’s another,in which we shall meet y ou once more !

128

Trans lated from Sch i l ler by B ulwer.

Over the River.Over the river they beckon to meLoved ones who’ve crossed to the further si de ;

The gleam of thei r snowy robes I see,

But thei r voices are drowned in the rushing t ide.

There’s one w ith ringlets .of sunny gold,

And eyes,the reflect ion of heaven’

s own blue ;He crossed in the twilight

,gray and cold

,

And the pale m ist hid him from mortal view.

We saw not the angels who met him there ;The gates of the city we could not see ;

Over the river, over the river,My brother stands wai t ing to welcome me !

Over the river, the boatman paleCarried another—the household pet ;

Her brown curls waved in the gentle galeDarling Minnie ! I see her y et.

She crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands,And fearlessly entered the phantom bark ;We watched i t glide from the s i lver sands

,

And all our sunshine grew strangely dark.

124 ! 24 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION.

We know she is safe on the further side,Where all the ransomed and angels be

Over the river, the myst i c river,My childhood’s idol is wai t ing for me.

For none return from those quiet shores,

Who cross with the boatman cold and pale ;We hear the dip of the golden oars,And catch a gleam of the snowy sail

,

And 10 ! they have passed from our yearning heart ;They cross the stream,

and are gone for ay e ;We may not sunder the veil apartThat hides from our vision the gates of day ;We only know that their bark no more

May sail wi th us over l ife’s stormy sea ;Yet somewhere

,I know

,on the unseen shore

,

They watch,and beckon

,and wait for me.

And I si t and think,when the sunset’s gold

Is flushing river,and bill

,and shore

,

I shall one day stand by the water cold,

And l ist for the sound of the boatman’

s oar ;

I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail ;I shall hear the boat as i t gains the strand ;I shall pass from s ight wi th the boatman pale

,

To the better shore of the Spirit landI shall know the loved who have gone before

,

And joyfully sweet will the meet ing be,

When over the river,the peaceful river

,

The Angel of Death shall carry me.

TheWonderful One-Hoes Shay .”

A LOGICAL STORY.

Have y ou heard of the wonderful one-boss

That was built in such a logical wayIt ran a hundred years to a day ,And then

,of a sudden

,i t -Ah

,but stay

,

126 EXER CISES IN E LOCUT]ON .

He sent for lancewood,to make the thi lls

The cross- bars were ash,from the st raightest trees ;

The panels of whi te-wood,that cuts l ike cheese

,

But lasts like i ron for things l ike these ;The hubs from logs from the Setler

’

s ellum

Las t of i ts t imber—they couldn’t sell ’emNever an axe had seen thei r chips

,

And the wedges flew from between thei r lips,

The ir blunt ends frizzled l ike celery- t ips ;S tep and prop - i ron

,bolt and screw

,

Spring,t i re

,axle

,and l inchpin too

,

S teel of the finest,bright and blue ;

Thoroughbrace bison- skin,thick and wide ;

Boot,top, dasher, from tough old h ide

,

Found in the pit where the tanner died.That was the way he

“

put her through .

“ There ! said the Deacon,

naow she’l l dew !

Do ! I tell y ou , I rather guessShe was a wonder

,and nothing less !

Colts grew horses,beards turned gray

,

Deacon and deaconess dropped away,

Children and grandchi ldren—where were they 7Bu t there stood the stout old one- hoss shay

,

As fresh as on Lisbon- earthquake—day !

Ercnrnnx HUNDRED came,and found

The Deacon’

s masterpiece strong and sound.E ighteen hundred

,increased by ten

Hahnsum kerridge they called i t then.

Eighteen hundred and twenty came

Running as usual—much the same.

Thirty and forty at last arrive ;And then came fifty—and FIFTY- FIVE.

Li ttle of all we value hereWakes on the morn of i ts hundred th yearWi thout both feeling and looking queer.In fact, there

'

s nothing that keeps i ts youth,

EXER CIS ES IN ELOCUTION.

So far as I know,but a tree and tru th.

(This is a moral that runs at largeTake ih—You’re welcome—No extra charge.)

Emsr or NOVEMBER—the Earthquake- day .

There are traces of age in the one-boss shay ,A general flavor of m ild decayBut nothing local

,as one may say .

There couldn’t be~ - for the Deacon’s artHad made i t so l ike in every partThat there wasn’t a chance for one to start.For the wheels were just as s trong as the thillsAnd the floor was just as strong as the sills

,

And the panels just as strong as the floor,

And the whippletree nei ther less nor more,And the back crossbar as strong as the fore

,

And spring, and axle, and hub encore.

And y et , as a whole, it is past a doubt

In another hour it will be worn out !

First of November,’Fitty- five l

This morning the parson takes a drive.

Now,small boys

, get out of theway !

Here comes the wonderful one-boss shay,

Drawn by a rat- tailed,ewe-necked bay .

Hud up ! said the parson—Off went they.

The parson was working his Sunday text

Had got tofifthly , and stopped perplexed

At what the—Moses—was com ing next.All at once the horse stood st ill,Close by the meet

’

n' house on the hill.

—First a shiver, and then a thrill,Then something decidedly like a spill

And the parson was s it t ing upon a rock,

At half- past nine by the maet’a'

- house clock

Just the hour of the earthquake shock !

What do y ou th ink the parson found,When he got up and stared around ?

6*

1 27

128 EXER CISES IN ELOCUTION .

The poor old chaise in a heap or mound,As if it had been to the mi ll and ground !

You see, of course, if you’re not a dunce,

How it went to pieces all at once

All at once, and nothing firs tJust as bubbles do when they burst.End of the wonderful one- hose shay.

Logic IS logic. That's all I say .

Warren’s Address

S tand ! the ground’

s your own,my braves ,

Will y e give i t up to slavesWill y e look for greener graves 7Hope y e mercy st ill

What’s the mercy despots feel

Hear i t in that battle pea],Read i t on y ou bristl ing steel ,

Ask i t, y e who will !

Fear y e foes who kill for hireWi ll y e to your homes ret ire ?Look behind y ou they’re a- fire !

And before y ou, see

Who have done i t ! From the valeOn they come ! and will y e quailLeaden rain and i ron hail

Let thei r welcome be !

In the God of battles t rust !Die we may

—and die we must ;But, oh, where can dust to dust

Be consigned so well,

As where heaven i ts dews shall shedOn the martyred patriot’s bed

,

And the rocks shall raise the ir head,

Of his deeds to tell ?

130 EXER CISES IN EL ooUTION .

Let us,then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate

S t il l achieving, s ti ll pursuing,Learn to labor and to wait.

H . W Longfel low.

Tasso’s Coronat ion.

1.

A trumpet’s note is in the sky , in the glorious Roman sky ,

Whose dome hath rung,so many an age, to the voice of victory ;

There is crowding to the capi tol,the imperial streets along,

For again a conqueror must be crowned,—a kingly child of song !

11 .

Yet his chariot lingers,

Yet around his home

Broods a shadow s ilently,

’Mid the joy of Rome.

m .

A thousand thousand laurel—boughs are waving wide and far,

To shed out thei r triumphal gleams around h is roll ing car ;A thousand haunts of olden gods have given thei r weal th of flowers

,

To scatter o’er his path of fame bright hues in gem - like showers.

1v.

Peace ! within his chamber

Low the m igh ty lies ;With a cloud of dreams on his noble brow

,

And a wandering in his eyes.

v.S ing

,sing for him

,the lord of song

,for him

,whose rush ing strain

In mas tery o’er the Spirit sweeps,l ike a strong wind o'er the main !

Whose voice lives deep in burning hearts,forever there to dwell

,

As full- toned oracles are shrined in a temple’s holiest cell.v1.

Yes ! for him,the victor

,

S ing, -but low, sing low !

A soft sad mis—e- re—re chant,For a soul about to go !

E'

XE’RCISES IN E LOCUTION. 1 3 1

The sun, the sun of Italy is pouring o’er his way ,

Where the old three hundred triumphs moved,a flood of golden day

S tream ing through every haugh ty arch of the Caesars'

past renown

Bring forth,in that exul t ing l ight

,the conqueror for his crown !

vur.

Shut the proud,bright sunsh ine

From the fading s ight !

There needs no ray by the bed of death,Save the holy taper’s light.

The wreath is twined,the way is strewn

,the lordly train are met.

The streets are hung wi th coronals,—why stays the m ins trel y et ?

Shout ! as an army shouts in joy around a royal chief,Bring forth the bard of chivalry

,the hard of love and griefl

x.

S ilence ! forth we bring him,

In his last array ;From love and grief the freed, the flown,Way for the bier, —make way

.Mrs. R o mans.

Death of theOldYear.

Full knee- deep lies the winter- snow,

And the winter-winds are wearily s ighing

Toll y e the church- bell,sad and slow,

And tread softly and speak low,

For the old year l ies a—dying.

Old y ear y ou must not die ;You came to us so readily,You l ived with us so steadily,Old year, y ou shal l not die.

He lieth st ill : he doth not move

He wi ll not see the dawn of day

He hath no other l ife above.

He gave me a friend and a t rue, t rue love,And the new year will take them away.


Old year y ou must not go ;So long as y ou have been wi th us,Such joy as y ou have seen wi th us

,

Old year y ou shall not go.

He frothed his bumpers to the brim ;A jollier year we shal l not see.

But though his eyes are waxing dim,

And though his foes speak i ll of him,

He was a friend to me.

Old year y ou shall not die ;We did so laugh and cry with y ou,I’

ve half a m ind to die with y ou,Old year if y ou must die.

He was full of joke and jest ;But all his merry quips are o

’er.

To See him die,across the waste

His son and hei r doth ride post- has te,

But he’ll be dead before.Every one for his own.

The night is starry and cold my friend

And the N ew Year bl i the and bold,my

Comes up to take his own .

How hard he breathes ! o’er the snow

I heard just now the crowing cock,

The shadows fl icker to and fro

The cricket ch irps—the l igh t burns low'

Tis nearly twelve o'clock.

Shake hands before y ou die !

Old year we’ll dearly rue for y ou

What is i t we can do for y ou ?

Speak out before y ou die.

His face is growing sharp and thinAlack l our friend is gone.

Close up his eyes—tie up his chinS tep from the corpse, and let him inThat standeth there alone

,


If they rule,i t shall be o

’er our ashes and graves

But we’ve smote them already with fire on the waves,

And new t riumphs on land are before us ;

To the charge ! Heaven’

s banner is o'er us.

This day—shal l y e blush for i ts story

Or brighten your lives wi th i ts glory 7

Our women—O,say , shall they shriek in despai r,

Or embrace us from conquest,w ith wreaths in their hai r ?

Accursed may his memory blacken,

If a coward there be that would s lacken

Till we’ve t rampled the turban, and shown ourselves worthBeing sprung from and named for

,the godlike of earth !

S trike home ! and the world shall revere us

As heroes descended from heroes.

Old Greece ligh tens up wi th emot ion !Her inlands

,her isles of the ocean

,

Fanes rebuil t,and fai r towns

,shal l with jubilee ring,

And the N ine shall new hallow thei r Helicon’s Spring.

Our hearths shall be kindled in gladness,That were cold and ext inguished in sadness ;

Whils t our maidens shall dance wi th thei r whi te waving arms.S inging joy to the brave that del ivered thei r charms,When the blood of y ou Musselman cravens

Shall have crimsoned the beaks of our ravens !Camp bel l.

TheBell of the At lantic.Toll

,toll

,toll

,thou bel l by bi llows swung ;

And,night and day , thy warning words repeat wi th mournful tongue

Tol l for the queenly boat,wrecked on y ou rocky shore !

Sea- weed is in her palace wal ls she rides the surge no more.

Toll for the master bold,the h igh - souled and the brave

,

Who ruled her l ike a th ing of life am i d the crested wave !Toll for the hardy crew

,sons of the storm and blast

,

Who long t he tyrant ocean dared ; but i t vauquishcda them at last.

ima mCISE S IN E LOC UTION . 1 35

Toll for the man of God,whose hallowed voice of prayer

Rose calm above the st ifled groan of that intense despai r !How precious were those tones on that sad verge of l ife

,

Am id the fierce and freezing storm,and themountain billows’ strife !

Tol l for the lover lost to the summoned bridal train !Bright glows a p icture on his breast

,beneath th’ unfathomed main.

One from her casement gaze th long o’er the m isty sea

Il e cometh not, pale maiden—his heart is cold to thee.’l‘

oll for the absent si re,who to his home drew near

,

To bless a glad expect ing group—fond wi fe and children dear !'l‘hay heap the blazing hear th ; the fes tal board is spread ;But a fearful guest is at the gate : room for the pall i d dead I

Toll for the loved and fair,the whelmed beneath the t ide

The broken harps around whose strings the dull sea-mons ters glide !Mother and nursl ing sweet

,reft from their household throng.

There’s bit ter weeping in the nest where breathed the soul of song.

Toll for the hearts that bleed ’neath m isery’s furrowing trace !

Toll for the hapless orphan left,the las t of all his race !

Yea,w i th thy heaviest knell, from surge to rocky shore,

Toll for the l iving,—not the dead

,whose mortal woes are o

'

cr !

Toll,toll

,toll

,o’

er breeze and billow free,

And with thy startling lore instruct each rover of the sea

Tell how o’

er proudest joys may swift destruct ion sweep,

And bid him bui ld his hopes on high—lone teacher of the deep.Ly d ia 11 . S igaunwy .

Adams and Jefferson.

Adams and Jeff erson, I have sai d, are no more. As human

beings,indeed

,they are no more. They are no more, as in 1776,

bold and fearless advocates of independence ; no more, as on sub

sequent periods, the head of the government ; no more, as we have

recent ly seen them,aged and venerable objects of adm iration and

regard. They are no more. They are dead.

Bu t how l i ttle is there of the great and good which can die ! To

their countfy they y et l ive, and l ive forever. They l ive in all that


perpetuates the remembrance of men on earth ; in the recorded

proofs of their own great act ions,in the offspring of their intellect,

in the deep engraved lines of public grat itude, and in the respect

and homage of mankind. They li ve in their example ; and theylive

,emphati cally, and n ill l ive, in the influence which their li ves

and efforts,thei r principles and opinions, now exercise, and will

cont inue to exercise,on the affai rs of men

,not onlv in thei r own

country, but throughout the civilized world.

A superior and commanding human intellect,a truly great man

,

when Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift,is not a temporary flame

,

burning bright for a while,and then expiring

,giving place to

returning darkness. It is rather a spark of fervent heat, as well asradiant light, w ith power to enkindle the common mass of human

m ind ; so that, when i t gl immers, in i ts own decay, and finally goesout in death

,no night follows ; but i t leaves the world all ligh t

,all

on fire,from the potent contact of i ts own Spirit.

Bacon died ; but the human understanding, roused by the touch

of his mi raculous wand to a percept ion of the true philosophy and

the just mode of inquiring after t ru th,has kept on its course suc

cessfully and gloriously. N ewton died ; y et the courses of the

spheres are still known, and they y et move on,in the orbi ts which

he saw and described for them,in the infini ty of space.

No two men now live—perhaps it may be doubted whether anytwo men have ever lived in one age

—who,more than those we now

commemorate,have impressed their own sentiments

,in regard to

polit ics and government, on mankind,infused their own Opinions

more deeply into the Opinions of others,or gi ven a more lasting

di rection to the current of human thought. Thei r work doth not

perish wi th them. The tree which they as sisted to plant wi llflourish, although they water i t and protect i t no longer ; for i t hass truck i ts roots deep ; i t has sent them to the very center ; no storm

,

not of force to burst the orb,can overturn i t ; i ts branches spread

wide ; they stretch thei r protect ing arms broader and broader,and

i ts top is destined to reach the heavens.We are not deceived. There is no delusion here. No age wi llcome in which the Ameri can revolut ion will appear less than i t is,one of the greatest events in human history. No age will come inwhich i t will cease to be seen and felt

,on either conti

'

r'

i ent, that s


The Boy s.

Thi s selecti on i s a poem ad d ressed to th e class of 1829, in HarvardCollege, some th i rty y ears after th eir g radua ti on.

Has there any old fellow got m ixed wi th the boys 7

If there has,take him out

,wi thout making a noise.

Hang the almanac’s cheat and the catalogue’s spi te !Old Time is a liar ; we

’re twenty to-night .

We'

re twenty ! We're twenty ! Who says we aremore 7

He ’t ipsey ,

—young jackanapes l—show him the door !“ Gray temples at twenty ? ”—Yes ! whi te if we please ;Where the snow

-flakes fall thickes t there’s nothing can freeze !

Was i t snowing I spoke of Excuse the m istake !

Look close,—y ou will see not a sign of a flake !

We want some new garlands for those we have shed,And these are white roses in place of the red.

\ve'

ve a trick,we young fellows

, y ou may have been told ,Of talking ( in publ ic) as i f we

,

were old ;

That boy we call Doctor and this we call “ JudgeIt

’s a neat l i ttle fiction, -of course i t’s all fudge.

That fellow ’

s the Speaker,

"the one on the right

“ Mr. Mayor,my young one, how are y ou to- night ?

That 's our Member of Congress,

”we say when we chafi

'

There 's the “Reverend ” -what ’s his name '

I—don’t make me laugh.That boy wi th the gravemathematical look

Made bel ieve he had written a wonde rful book,

And the Royal Society though t it was true /So they chose him right ia,—a good joke i t was, too !

There 's a boy , we pretend, wi th a three- decker brain

,

That could harness a team with a logical chain ;When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire

,

We called him “ The Justice,

"but now he

'

s the “ Squire.

And there ’s a nice youngs ter of excellent pi th

Fate t ried to conceal him by nam ing h im Sm i thBut he shouted a song for the brave and the free

,

Just read on his meda,

“ My country,

”of thee

EXER CISES IN ELOCUTmN . 1 39

You hear that boy laughing ? You think he '

s all fun ;

But the angels laugh,too

,at the good he has done ;

The children laugh loud as they troop to his call,And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of al l.

Yes, we’re boys

,—always playing wi th tongue or wi th pen ;

And I sometimes have asked,Shall we ever be men ?

Shall we always be you thful,and laughing

,and gay ,

T ill the las t dear companion drops smiling away

Then here ’s to our boyhood

,its gold and i ts gray !

The stars of i ts winter, the dews of i ts May !

And when we have done wi th our l ife- last ing toys,

Dear Father,take care of Thy chi ldren, THE BOYS

Oliver WHolman

An Order for a Picture.

0,good painter, tel l me true,Has your hand the cunning to draw

Shapes of things that y ou never saw ?

Ay e ? Well,here is an order for y ou.

Woods and cornfields a li ttle brown,The picture must not be over- bright ,Yet all in the golden and gracious light

,

Of a cloud when the summer sun is down.

Alway and alway, nigh t and mom ,

Woods upon woods, wi th fields of corn

Lying between them,not qui te sere,

And not in the full, thick, leafy bloom ,

When the wind can hardly find breathing room

Under the ir tassels,—catt le near,

Bi ting shorter the shout green grass,

And a hedge of sumach and sassafras,Wi th bluebirds twi ttering all around,Ah

,good painter, y ou can

’t paint sound !

These and the l i ttle house where I was born,Low and l i ttle and black and old

,


Wi th children,many as i t can hold,

All at the windows, Open wide,Heads and shoulders clear ou ts i de,And fair young faces all ablush ;Perhaps y ou may have seen

,some day ,

Roses crowding the self- same way ,Out of a W i lding

,way

- side bush.

Listen closer. When y ou have doneWith woods and cornfields and grazing herds,A lady

,the loveliest ever the sun

Looked down upon, y ou must paint for me ;

Oh, if I only could make y ou see

The clear blue eyes,the tender sm ile

,

The sovere ign sweetness, the gentle grace,The woman'

s soul and the angel's face

That are beam ing on me all the while !I need not speak these fool ish words :

Yet one word tells y ou all I would say ,She is my mother : y ou will agree

That all the rest may be thrown away.

Two li tt le urchins at her kneeYou must paint, sir ; one l ike me,The other wi th a clearer brow

,

And the ligh t of his adventurous eyes

Flashing with boldest enterpriseAt ten years old he went to sea

,

God knoweth if he be l iving now,

He sailed in the good ship “ Commodore,

Nobody ever crossed her trackTo bring us news

,and she never came back.

Ah,

’t is twenty long years and more

S ince that old ship went out of the bayWi th my great - hearted brother on her deckI watched him t ill he shrank to a speck

,

And his face was toward me all the way .


But that’s no matter,—paint it so ;

The eyes of our mother— (take good heed)Lookingnot on the nest - full of eggs,N or the flu ttering bird

,held so fast by the legs,

B ut straigh t through our faces, down to our l ies,And oh

,wi th such injured, reproachful surprise,

I felt my heart bleed where that glance went , as though

A sharp blade struck through i t.

You,sir

,know

,

That y ou on the canvas are to repeat

Things that are fai rest, things mos t sweet,Woods and cornfields and mulberry tree,The mo ther,— the lads

,with the ir birds

,at her knee,

But,oh that look of reproachful woe !

High as the heavens your name I'll shout,If vou paint me the picture, and leave that out.

A lic e Cary .

Scene from the Merchant of Veni ce.

Belmont. A Room in Portia’

s House.

Par. By my troth , Nerissa, my li t tle body is aweary of th is great

world.You would be, sweet madam

,if your m iseries were in the

same abundance as your good fortunes are ; and y et , for aught I

see,they are as s ick that surfei t wi th too much as they that starve

with nothing. It is no mean happiness,therefore

,to be seated in

the mean ; superfiui ty comes sooner by whi te hairs, but competency

l i ves longer.For. Good sentences and well pronounced.

Ner. They would be bet ter i f well fol lowed.

Par. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do,

chapels had been churches,and poor men

’

s cottages princes’ palaces.

It is a good divine that follows his own inst ruct ions . I can easier

t each twenty what were good to be done than be one of the twenty

to follow m ine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for theblood ; but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree ; such a hareis m adness

,the youth

,to skip o’er the meshes of good counsel

,the

cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a

EXERCISE S IN ELOCUTION . 14 3

husband. 0 me ! the word choose ! I may nei ther choose whomwould, nor refuse whom I disl ike ; so is the will of a living daugh tercurbed by the will of a dead father. Is i t not hard

,Ncrissa

,that 1

cannot choose one,nor refuse none ?

Ner. Your father was ever virtuous ; and holy men at thei r deathhave good inspirat ions ; therefore the lot tery that he hath devised inthese three chests of gold

,s ilver

,and lead (whereof who choose:

his meaning, chooses y ou) , will, no doubt , never be chosen by any

rightly, but one whom y ou shall righ tly love. But what warm th i sthere in your affection toward any of these princely sui tors thatare already comePar. I pray thee overname them ; and as thou namest them

,I

w ill describe them ; and according to my descript ion, level at myaffection.

Ner. First , there is the Neapoli tan prince.

Por. Ay , that’

s a colt,indeed

,for he doth nothing but talk of his

horse ; and he makes i t a great appropriat ion to his own good partsthat he can shoe him himself.

Ner . Then,is there the county Palat i ne.

Par. He doth nothing but frown ; as who should say , And y ou

will not have me choose ; he hears merry tales and sm iles not ;

I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher, when he grows old,being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather

be married to a death’s - head wi th a bone in his mouth,than to

ei ther of these. God defend me from these two !

Ner. How say y ou by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon ?Par. God made him

,and therefore let him pass for a man. In

t ruth,I know i t is a s in to be mocker ; but , he ! why he hath a

horse better than the Neapol i tan’s ; a better bad habit of frowning

than the count Palat ine. He is every man in no man ; if a thros t le

s ing he falls straight a capering ; he will fence with his own shadow.

If I should marry him I should marry twenty husbands. If he

would despise me, I would forgi ve him ; for if he love me to mad

ness, I should never requi te him .

Ner. What say y ou then to Faulconbridge,the young baron 0 !

England

For. You know I say nothing to him,for he understands not me

nor I him ; he hath nei ther Lat in,French

,nor Italian ; and y ou

7

1 44 E rna CISE’

S IN ELOCUTI ON .

will come into the court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth

in the Engl ish. He is a proper man’s picture ; but , alas ! who can

converse with a dumb show ? How oddly he is sui ted I think he

bought his doublet in Italy, hi s round - hose in France, hi s bonnet in

Germany and his behavior everywhere.

Ner. What think y ou of the Scot tish lord , his neighbor ?

For. That he hath neighborly charity in him,for he borrowed a

box of the ear,of the Englishman

,and swore he would pay him

again when he was able. I think the Frenchman became his surety,

and sealed under for another.Ner. How l ike y ou the y oung German, the Duke of Saxony’s

nephew 7

Por. Very vilely in the morning,when he is sober ; and most

vilely in the afternoon when he is drunk ; when he is best , he is a

l i t tle worse than a man ; and when he is worst, he is l itt le betterthan a beast. And the wors t fall that ever fel l

,I hope I shall make

shift to go wi thout him .

Ner. If he shouldm ake offer to choose,and choose the right casket ,

y ou would refuse to perform your father’s will if y ou should refuse

to accept him.

Par. Therefore,for fear of the worst

,I pray thee set a deep glass

of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket : for if the devi l be wi th in,and that temptat ion wi thou t, I know he w i ll choose i t. I will doany thing, Ncrissa, ere I will be married to a sponge.

Ner . You need not fear,lady

,the having any of these lords ; thev

have acquainted me wi th their determ inat ions ; which is, indeed, to

return to their home and to t rouble y ou wi th no more suit , unless

y ou may be won by some other sort than your father’s impos i

t ion,depending on the caskets.

Par. If I live to be as old as S ibylla,I will di e as chaste as

Diana,unless I be obtained by the manner of my father

’

s will. I

am glad th is parcel of wooers are so reasonable ; for there is not

one among them but I dote on his very absence,and I pray God

grant them a fair departure.

Ner. Do y ou not remember,lady

,in your father’s t ime a Vene

t ian,a scholar and a soldier

,that came hither in company of the

Marquis of Mont-ferret ?

Por. Yes, y es ; i t was Bassanio ; as I th ink, so he was cal led


long been raging the abominati on of desolat ion standing where

i t ought not .” But before al l and above all other associati ons andmemories—whether of glorious men or g lori ous deeds, or glori ous

places—i ts voi ce is ever of Uni on and Li berty , of the Consti tution

and the Laws.

The Song of the (lamp.

Gi ve us a song I” the soldi ers cri ed ,The outer t renches guarding,When the heated guns of the camps all iedGrew weary of bombarding.

The dark Redan, in si lent scofl‘

,

Lay , grim and th reateni ng,under ;

And the tawny mound of the Malakofi'

No longer bel ched i ts thunder.

Therewas a pause. A guardsman said“ We storm the fo rts to-morrow ;

Sing whi le we may , another dayWi l l b ring enough of sorrow.

”

They lay along the battery’s si de

,

Below the smoking cannon :

Brave hearts , from Severn and from Clyde,And from the banks of Shannon.

They sang of love, and not of fameForgot was Bri tain’s glory :

Each heart recal led a di fferent name,

But al l sang Annie Lawri e.”

Voi ce after voi ce caught up the song,Unti l i ts tender passion

Rose l i ke an anthem,ri ch and strong

,

Thei r batt le- eve confessi on.


Bey ond the darkening ocean burnedThe bloody sunset’s embers

,

Whi le the Crimean valleys learnedHow English love remembers.

And once again a fire of hel lRained on the Russian quarters ,Wi th scream of shot

,and burs t of shel l,

And bel lowing of the mortars 1

And Iri sh Nora’s eyes are dim

For a singer,dumb and gory ;

And Engli sh Mary mourns for himWho sang of

“ Anni e Lawrie.

”

Bleep , soldi ers i sti l l in honored rest

Your t ruth and valor wearingThe bravest are the tenderest

,

The loving are the daring.

PeopleWill Talk.We may go through the world, but i t will be slow

,

If we listen to all that is sai d as we go.

We will be worried and fretted and kept in a stew ;Too meddlesome tongues must have something to do.

For people will talk, y ou know,people will talk ;

Oh, y es, they must talk, y ou know.

If quiet and modest, you’l l have i t presumed

Your humble posi tion is only assumed

You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing,or else you’re a fool ;

But don’t get exci ted, keep perfectly cool.

For people wi ll talk, etc.

If generous and noble, they’ll vent out their spleen

You’ll hear some loud hints that you're selfish and mean

If upright and honest and fai r as the day ,

147

148148 EXERCISES IN ELOUUTION.

They’ll call y ou a rogue in a sly , sneaking way .

For people will talk,etc.

And then i f y ou show the least boldness of heart,Or slight inclinat ion to take your own part,They'll call y ou an upstart

,concei ted and vain ;

But keep straight ahead, and don’t stop to complain.

For people will talk, etc

If threadbare your coat, and old- fashioned your hat,

S ome one of course will take not ice of that,

And hint rather strong that y ou can't pay your way ,

But don’

t get exci ted, whatever y ou say .

For people wi ll talk,etc.

If y ou dress in the fashion, don'

t think to escape,For they will criticise then in a different shape ;You’re ahead of your means

,or your tailor's unpaid ;

But m ind your own business, there’

s nought to be made

For people wi ll talk,etc.

They'll talk fine before y ou ; but then at your back,

Of venom and slander there’s never a lack ;How kind and pol ite in all that they say ,

B ut bit ter as gall when y ou are away.

For people will talk,etc.

The best way to do is to do as y ou please,For your m ind ( if y ou have one) will then be at ease ;

Of course y ou will meet wi th all sorts of abuse,

But don’

t think to s top them,i t isn’

t any use,

For people will talk, y ou know,

people will talk,

0, y es, theymust talk, y ou know.

Somebody’s Darling.

Into a ward of the whi tewashed walls,

Where the dead and dying lay ,

150 EXERCISE S IN E LOCUTION.

Tenderly bury the fai r young dead,Pausing to drop on his grave a tear ,

Carve on the wooden slab at his head,Somebody

'

s darling slumbers here.

War Ly rics of the Sou th.

Zenobia’s Ambit ion

I am charged wi th pride and ambit ion. The charge is t rue, and

I glory in i ts truth. Who ever achieved any thing great in le tters,arts or arms

,who was not ambi t ious ? Caesar was not more ambi

t ious than C icero. I t was but in another way . All greatness isborn of ambit ion. Let the ambi t ion be a noble one

,and who shall

blame i t ? I confess I did once aspire to be queen, not Only of

Palmyra,bu t of the Eas t. That I am . I now aspi re to remain so.

Is i t not an honorable ambi tion Does i t no t become a descendant

of the Ptolem ies and of Cleopatra ? I am applauded by y ou all

for what I have already done. You would not i t should have been

less.But why pause here ? Is so much ambit ion praiseworthy

,and

moreacrim inal ? Is i t fixed in nature that the l im i ts of this empire

should be Egypt on the one hand,the Hellespont and the Euxine

on the other ?'

Were not Suez and Armenia more natural l im i ts ?

Or hath empire no natural l im it,bu t is broad as the genius that can

devise,and the power that can

,w in ? Rome has the West. Let

Palmyra possess the East. Not that nature prescribes this and no

more. The gods prospering, and I swear not/that the Medi terra

nean shal l hem m e in upon the west , or Pers ia on the east. Longi

nus is right—I would that the world were m ine. I feel,within

,the

will and the power to bless i t were i t so.

Are not my people happy? I‘ I look upon the past and the present

,l

upon my nearer and remoter subjects,and ask

,nor fear the answer.

Whom have I wronged - what province have I Oppressed — whatcity pillaged

'

f—what region drained wi th taxes —whose l ife haveI - unjustly taken

,or estates coveted or robbed -whose honor have

I wantonly assai led —whose rights , though of the weakest and

poorest,have I trenched upon -I dwel l

,where I would ever

dwell,in the hearts of my people. It is wri tten in your faces

,that

E ranC'IS ES IN ELOC'UTION . 15 1

I reign not more over y ou than wi thin y ou. The foundat ion of mythrone is not more power than love.Suppose now my ambi t ion add another province to our realm.

Is i t an evil ? The ki ngdoms already bound to us by the joint actsof ourself and the late royal Odenatus, we found discordant and at

war. They are now united and at peace. One harmonious wholehas grown out of hos t i le and sundered parts. At my hands they

receive a common just ice and equal benefi ts. The channels of theircommerce have I opened

,and dug them deep and. sure. Prosperi ty

and plenty are in all thei r borders. The streets of our capi tal beartest imony to the distant and various industry which here seeks i tsmarket.This is no vain boasting ; receive i t not so, good friends. It is

but truth. He who traduces h imself; sins wi th him who traducesanother. He who is unjust to himself

,or less than just

,breaks a

law, as well as he who hurts his neighbor. I tell y ou what I am,

and what I have done, that your trust for the fu ture may not rest

upon ignorant grounds. If I am more than just to myself,rebuke

me. If I have overstepped the modesty that became me,I am open

to your censure, and will bear i t.

But I havespoken that y ou may know your queen, not only byher acts

,but by her adm it ted principles. I tell y ou then that I am

ambi tious,that I crave dominion

,and while I live will reign.

Sprung from a l ine of kings,a throne is my natural seat . I love i t .

But I strive,too

, y ou can bear me wi tness that I do, that it shall be,while I si t upon i t , an honoredfiu npgnt ed seat. If I can, I willhang a y et brigh ter glory around i t.

Portia’s Speech on Mercy .

The qual i ty of mercy is not strained,It droppeth as the gentle rain from HeavenUpon the place beneath) . It is twice blessed

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.’Tis m igh tiest in the m ight iest ; i t becomes

The throned monarch better than his crown.

7*

152 EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUH ON .

His scepter shows the force of temporal power,The attribute to awe and majesty,Wherein doth si t the dread and fear of kings.

But mercy is above this sceptered'

sway,It is enthroned in the heart of kings

It is an at t ribute to God himself.And earthly power doth then show likest God’s,When mercy seasons just ice. Therefore, Jew,

Though just ice be thy plea, consider this,That

,in the course of just ice, none of us

Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy,And that same prayer doth teach us all

To render the deeds of mercy.

The Bell s.*

Hear the defi es wi th the bells,S i lver bells !

What a world of merriment thei r melody foretells !How they t inkle

,t inkle

,t inkle

,

In the icy air of night !Whi le the st

agthat oversprinkle

All t he heavens,seem to twinkle

’

With a crystalline deli ght ;Keeping time

, IIn a sort of Runi c rhyme

,

To the t intinnabulation that so musical wellsFrom the bells

,

From the jingling and the t inkl ing of the bells.

Hear the mellow wedding bells,

Golden bells lWhat a world of happiness thei r harmony foretells l

Through the balmy air of night,How they ring on; thei r delight lFrom the molten golden notes,

s The compi ler has taken the l iberty of omi tting m any repeti tions, believing that the ord inaryreaderwi l l have less trouble in the rendering , whi le the elocut ionist m ay insert them at wi ll .

154 154 EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION.

Yet the ear dist inctly tells,In the jangling

And the wrangl ing,How the danger sinks and swells,

the s inking or the swelling in the anger of the

In the clamor and the clangor of the bells !

Hear the tol l ing of the bells,Iron bells !

What a world of solemn thought thei r monody compels !

In the si lence of the n ight,

How we shiver wi th afl'

right

At the melancholy menace of thei r tone !For every sound that float sFrom the rust within thei r throats

,

Is a groan.

And the people —ah l the people !They that dwell up in the steeple

,

All alone,

And"

who,toll ing

,toll ing

,tolling

,

In that mufll ed monotone,

Feel a glory in so roll ing,

On the human heart a stone

They are neither man nor woman,

They are ne i ther bru te nor human ;They are ghouls ;

And thei r king i t is who tells

And he rolls, .

A ptean from the bells !And his merry bosom swellsWith the pa an of the bells !

And he dances,and he yells ;

Keeping t ime,

In a sort of Ruuic rhyme,

To the paean of the bells,Keeping t ime

,

As he knells,

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTI ON.

In a happy Runic rhyme,

To the roll ing of the bells,

To the toll ing of the bells,To the moaning and the groan ing of the bells.

Romeo and Juliet.

Balcony Scene.

Rom. He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

JULIET appears on the Balcony , and si ts down.

But soft ! What l ight through yonder window breaks !I t is the east

,and Jul iet is the sun !

Arise,fai r sun

,and kill the envious moon

,

Who is!ral ready s ick and pale w i th grief,

That thou,her maid

,art far more fair than she.

“ I t is my lady ; Oh ! i t is my love“ Oh, that she knew she were

She speaks, y et she says nothing : what of that ?I-Ier ey e discourses : I will answer i t .I am too bold. Oh, were those eyes in heaven

,

They would through the ai ry region st ream so bright,That birds would s ing, and think i t were the morn.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand !Oh

,that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek !

Jul. Ah, me !

Rom. She speaks, she speaks !

oh,speak again, bright angel ! for thou art

As glorious to this s ight, be ing o'er my head,

As is a winged messenger of heaven

To the up—turned wond'ring ey es of mortals

,

When he bestrides the lazy- pacing clouds,

And sails upon the bosom of the air,

Jul. Oh, Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art thou Romeo ?Deny thy father, and refuse thy name

1566 EXERCISE S IN EL OCUTION .

Or,if thou wilt not

,be but sworn my love,

And I’ll no longer be a Capulet .

Rom. Shall I hear more, or shal l I Speak at this ?

Jul.’Tis but thy name that is my enemy !

What's in a name ? That which we call a rose,By any other name would smell as sweet ;So Romeo would

,were he not Romeo called

,

Retain that dear perfect ion which he owes

Wi thout that t it le ! Rom eo,quit thy name ;

And for that name,which is no part of thee,

Take all myself.

Rom. I take thee at thy word !

Call me but love, I will forswear my name

And never more be Romeo.

Jul. What man art thou,that, thus bescreened in night

So stumblest on my counsel ?

Rom. I know not how to tell thee who I am !My name

,dear saint

,is hateful to myself

,

Becausei t is an enemy to thee.

Jul. My ears have not y et drunk a hundred words

Of that tongue’s uttering, y et I know the sound !

Art thou no t Romeo, and a Montague ?

Rom. Neither, fair saint , i f e i ther thee displease.

Jul. How cam‘

st thou h ither — tell me—and for what

The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb ;And the place, death , consi dering who thou art,If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

Rom. With love’s ligh t wings did I o'er- perch these walls

For stony limi ts cannot hold love Out ;And what love can do

,that dares love attempt ;

Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.Jul. If they do see thee here

,they’ll murder thee.

Rom. Alack,there lies more peri l in thine ey e,

Than twenty of their swords ! look thou but sweet,

And I am proof against thei r enm i ty.Jul. I would not

,for the world

,they saw thee here.

By whose di rect ion found'st thou out this place 7Rom. By love

,who first did prompt me to inqu ire

1588 EXER CISES IN EL ooUTION.

It is too rash,too unadvised, too sudden,

Too like the lightning,whi ch doth cease to be,

’Ere one can say

—It l ightens. Sweet,good night !

This bud of love,by summer’s ripen ing breath,

May prove a beau teous flower when next we meet.

Good night, good night l—as sweet repose and rest

Come to thy heart, as that wi thin my breas t l

Rom. Oh,wilt thou leave me so unsat isfied ?

Jul. What satisfact ion canst thou have to- nigh t ?

Rom. The exchange of thy love’

s fai thful vow for m ine.

Jul . I gave thee m ine, before thou didst request i t

And y et I would i t were to give again.

Rom . Would’st thou withdraw i t ? for what purpose, love ?Jul. But to be frank

,and give i t thee again.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep ; the more I give to thee,The more I have ; for both are infinite

,

I hear some noise wi thin. Dear love,adieu !

Nurse. [Wi thin ]Madam !Jul. Anon, good Nurse ! Sweet Montague, be true.

S tay but a l it tle,I will come again. [Ehi tfrom balcony ]

Rom. Oh l blessed,blessed n igh t ! I am afeard

,

Be ing in night,all this is but a dream

,

Too flattering sweet to be substant ial.Re- enter JULIET

,above.

Ju l. Three words,dear Romeo

,and good night

,indeed

If that thy bent of love be honorable,Thy purpose marriage

,send me word to-morrow,

By one that I’ll procure to come to thee,

Where,and what t ime

,thou wilt perform the ri te ;

And all my fortunes at thy foot I’ll lay ;

And follow thee,my lord, throughou t the world.

Nurse [Wi thim]Madam !Jul. I come anon ! But

,if thou mean’

st not well,I do beseech thee

Nurse. [Wi thin ]Madam ]Jul. By and by, I come !

To cease thy sui t,and leave me to my grief.

EXER CISES IN ELOCUTION. 159

To-morrow wi ll I send.Rom. So thri ve my soul

Jul. A thousand t imes good night !Rom. A thousand t imes the worse, towant thy l igh t. [Exi t]

Re- enter JULIET.

Jul. Hist ! Romeo,hist l Oh

,for a falconer’s voice

,

To lure this tassel gentle back again !Bondage is hoarse

,and may not speak aloud ;

Else would he fear the cave where Echo l ies,And make her ai ry tongue more hoarse than m ine

,

Wi th repeti tion of my Romeo’

s name.

ROMEO entering.

Rom . It is my love that calls upon my name !

How s i lver- sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night,Like softest mus ic to attending ears !

Jul. Romeo l

Rom. My sweet !

Jul. At what o’clock to -morrow

Shal l I send to thee ?

Rom. At the hour of nine.

Jul. I will not fail : 't is twenty years t i ll then.

I h ave forgot why I did call thee back.Rom. Let me stand here t ill thou remember it.Jul. I shall forget , to have thee sti ll stand there,

Rememb’

ring how I love thy company.

Rom. And I’l l st i ll stay,to have thee still forget

,

Forgett ing any other home but this.

Jul.’Tis almost morning ; I would have thee gone

And y et no further than a wanton’s bird ;Who lets i t h0p a li t tle from her hand

,

And with a s ilk thread plucks i t back again,

S o loving—jealous of i ts l iberty.Rom. I would I were thy bi rd.

J ul. Sweet, so would I !

Ye t I should kill thee with much cherishing.

Good n igh t,good n ight ! Part ing is such sweet sorrow

That I shall say Good night,

’

t ill i t be morrow.

[Ex i tfrom balcony .

160 EXER013 5 's 11V Enocm'rozv.

Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes,peace in thy breast !

Would I were sleep and peace,so sweet to rest !

Hence will I to my ghostly father’s cell ;

His help to crave,and my dear hap to tell.

Jack Homer.

Lit tle Jack Horner sat in a corner,

Eating a Christmas pie ;He put in his thumb

And pulled out a plum,

And said,What a great boy am I.

Ah ! the world has many a Hom er,

Who,seated in his corner

,

Finds a Christmas pie provided for his thumb,And cries out with exultat ion

,

When successful explorat ionDoth discover the predest ined plum.

Li ttle Jack outgrows his t i re,

And becometh John,Esqu ire

,

And he finds a monstrous pastry ready - made,

S tuff ed with notes and bonds and bales,Wi th invoices and sales

,

And all the m ixed ingredients of t rade.

And again i t is his luck,

To be just in t ime to pluck,

By a “ clever operat ion,

"from the pie

An unexpected plum

So he glorifies his thumb,And says

,proudly

,What a m ighty man am

Or, perchance, to science turning,

And,with weary labor

,learning

All the formulas that oppress her,

For the fruit of others baking,

So a fresh diploma taking,

Comes he forth a full accredi ted professor.

162 EXER CLS'ES IN EL o0UTION .

Apple and peach—trees frui ted deep,Fair as a garden of the Lord,To the eyes of the fam ished Rebel horde.

On that pleasant day of the early fall,

When Lee marched over the mountain wall,Over the mountains winding down,Horse and foot into Frederick town,Forty flags with the si lvery stars

,

Forty flags with thei r crimson harsh

Flapped in the m orn ing wind ; the sun

Of noon looked down and saw not one?

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,Bowed with her fourscore years and ten

,

Bravest of all in Frederick town,

S he took up the flag the men hauled down.

In her att ic window the staff she set,

To show that one heart was loyal y et.Up the st reet came the Rebel tread

,

S tonewal l Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and rightHe glanced the old flag met his s ight .Halt l

”— the dust- brown ranks stood fast.Fire l”—out blazed the rifle blast ;

I t sh ivered the window,pane

,and sash

,

I t rent the banner wi th seam and gash.

Quick,as i t fel l from the broken stafl

‘

,

Dame Barbara snatched the s ilken scarf;She leaned far out on the window—s il l

,

And shook i t forth with a royal will.

“ Shoot , if y ou must, this gray old head,

But spare your country’s flag,”she said.

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,Over the face of the leader came ;

The noble nature wi thin him st i rred

To life at Barbara’s deed and word

EXERCISES IN EL oe UTION . 1 63

Who touches a hair of y ou gray head,Dies l ike a dog ! March on ! he sai d.

All day long through Frederick street,

Sounded the t read of marching feet,

All day long that free flag tossedOver the heads of the Rebel host ;Ever i ts torn folds rose and fell

On the loyal winds that loved it well ;And

,through the hill- gaps

,sunset l ight

Shone over i t wi th a warm good - nigh t.

Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er,

And the Rebel rides on his raids no more ;Honor to her ! and let a tear

Fall,for her sake

,on S tonewall’s bier.

Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave,Flag of Freedom and Union wave !Peace and order and beauty draw

Round thy sy mbol of l ight and law ;And ever the stars above look down

On thy stars below at Frederick town.

Wi lmer .

WhichThe fol lowing te l ls i t s own s tory ,

and a beau t i f ul one i t i s too reading bes t and sound i ng sweetes t , wh en the fam i l y c i rcle have gatheredaround the even ing lam p , perhaps :

“ Which shall i t be ? which shall i t be ?

I looked at John— John looked at me

(Dear, patient John, who loves me y et

As wel l as tho’ my locks were jet) .And when I found that I must Speak,My voice seemed strangely low and weak ;Tell me again what Robert said ?

And then I list’uing bent my head.

This is his letter

I will give

A house and land wh ile y ou shall l ive,


If,in return

,from out your seven,

One child to me for ay e is given.

"

I looked at Jobu’s old garments worn,I though t of all that John had borne

Of poverty,and work and care,

Which I,though will ing, could not spare !

Of seven hungry mouths to feed,Of seven l it t le children’

s need,And then of this.

Come,John

,said I

,

“ We’l l choose among them as they l ie

Asleep ; so walking hand in hand,Dear John and I surveyed our band.

Firs t to the cradle l ightly stepped,Where Li lian

,the baby, slept ;

Her damp curls lay like gold al ight,A glory ’gainst the pillow White

,

Softly her father s tooped to layH is rough hand down in loving way .

When dream or whisper made her st ir,

And huskily he said,

“ N ot her— not her.

We s tooped bes ide the trundle—bed

And one long ray of lamp - light shed

A thwart the boyish faces there

In sleep so pit iful and fai r ;I saw on Jam ie

’

s rough,red cheek

A tear undried. Ere John could Speak,“ He

’

s but a baby,too

,

"sai d I

,

And kissed him as we hurried by.Pale

,pat ient Bobby’s angel face

S t i ll in his sleep bore sufl'

ering’

s trace

No,for a thousand crowns

,not him

,

He whispered,while our eyes were dim

,

Poor Dick ! sad Dick ! our way ward son,Turbulent

,reckless

,idle one

Could he be spared ? “ N ay , He who gave


You will find it so,s ir.

"And so I found i t ; and the first sight

of N iagara I shall never forget.Now,

launch your bark on that N iagara river ; i t is bright,smooth

,beaut iful and glassy. There is a ripple at the how ; the

s ilver wake y ou leave behind, adds to your enjoyment. Down the

stream y ou gl ide, oars , sails, and helm in proper trim, and y ou set

out on your pleasure excurs ion.

Suddenly, some one cries out from the bank, Young men,

boy I"

What is i t ?The rap ids are below y ou 1

"

“ Ha ! ha ! we have heard of the rapids ; but we are not suchfools as to get there. If we go too fast, then we shall up wi th thehelm

,and steer to the shore ; we will set the mast in the socket,

hoist the sail, and speed to the land. Then on,boys ; don

’

t be

alarmed,there is no danger.

"

Young men, ahoy there]“What is it ? "

The rap ids are below y ou l

Ha ! ha ! we will laugh and quail "; all things del ight us. Whatcare we for the future ! No man eve r saw i t. S ufi

‘lcient for the

day is the evil thereof. We will enjoy life while we may , willcatch pleasure as it fl ies. This is enjoyment ; t ime enough to steer

out of danger when we are saili ng swift ly wi th the current.YOUNG MEN

,AHOY l”

What is i t ?“ BEWARE ! BEWARE ! Tar. RAPIDS ARE BELOW YOU !

Now y ou see the water foam ing al l around. See how fast y ou

pass that point ! Up wi th the helm ! Now turn ! Pull hard !Quick ! quick ! quick ! pull for your l ives ! pull t ill the blood startsfrom your nost ri ls

,and the ve ins stand like whip- cords upon your

brow ! Set the mast in the socket ! hoist the sail ! Ah ! ah ! i t i stoo late ! Shrieking

,howling

,blasphem ing ; over they go.

”

Thousands go over the rapids of intemperance every year,through

thepower of habi t, crying all the while, When I find out that i t is

injuring me, I wi ll give i t up !

E I ERarse s IN ELOCUTION. 167

From Ivanhoe

Following w i th wonderful prompt i tude the directions of Ivanhoe,

and avai l ing herself of the protec tion of the large ancient shield,

which she placed against the lower part of the window, Rebecca,wi th to lerable securi ty to herself

,could w itness part of what was

pas sing wi thout the castle, and report to Ivanhoe the preparat ionswhich the assailants were making for the storm.

“ The skirts of the wood seem lined with archers,although only

a few are advanced from i ts dark shadow.

"

“ Under what banner ? asked Ivanhoe.“ Under no ensign of war which I can observe

,answered Re

beoce.A s ingular novelty

,

”muttered the knight, to advance to storm

such a cast le without pennonor banner displayed ! Seest thou whot hey be that act as leaders ?

“ A knigh t,clad in sable armor

,is the most conspicuous, sai d

the Jewess ;“ he alone is armed from head to heel

,and seems to

as sume the direction of all around him.

"

What device does he bear on his shield ? repl ied Ivanhoe.

‘S ometh ing resembling a bar of i ron, and a padlock painted blueon the black shield.”

“ A fet terlock and shacklebolt azure, said Ivanhoe ;“ I know

not who may hear the device, but well I ween i t m ight now be

m ine own. Canst thou not see the motto ? "

S carce the device i tself, at this distance, replied Rebecca ;“ but

when the sun glances fai r upon his shield, it shows as I te l l y ou.

“ Seem there no other leaders ? exclaimed the anxious inquirer.

None of mark and dist inction that I can behold from this sta

t ion,

”said Rebecca ;

“ but, doubtless, the other s ide of the castle isalso assailed. They appear even now preparing to advance.

"

Her description was here suddenly interrupted by the s ignal for

amault, which was given by the blas t of a shrill bugle, and at once

answered by a flourish of the Norman trumpets from the batt le

mea ts .

And I must lie here like a bedridden monk,"exclaimed Ivan

hoe,

“ while the game that gives me freedom or death is played out

by the hand of others ! Look from the window once again, kind

8


maiden,but

'

beware that y ou are not marked by the archers be

neath,look out once more, and tel l me if they y et advance to the

storm .

With pat ient courage, strengthened by the in terval which she

had employed in mental devot ion, Rebecca again took post at the

latt ice,sheltering herself, however, so as not to be vis ible from

beneath.“ What dost then see

,Rebecca ? again demanded the wounded

knight .“ Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as to dazzle

m ine eyes,and to h ide the bowmen who shoot them .

“ That cannot endure,

”sai d Ivanhoe ;

“ if they press not right

on to carry the castle by pure force of arms,the archery may avail

but l i ttle against stone walls and bulwarks. Look for the Knight

of the Fet terlock,fair Rebecca

,and see how he bearshimself; for,

as the leader is,so will his fol lowers be.

"

“ I see him not,

”said Rebecca.

“ Foul craven ! ” exclaimed Ivanhoe ;“ does he blench from the

helm when the wind blows highest ? "

“ He blenches not ] he blenches not ! sai d Rebecca ;“ I see him

now ; he leads a body of men close under the ou ter barrier of thebarbican. They pull down the piles and pal isades ; they hew downthe barriers wi th axes. H is high black plume floats abroad over thethrong

,like a raven over the field of the slain. They have made a

breach in the barriers—they rush in— they are thrust back !Front - de-Boeuf heads the defenders ; I see his gigant ic form abovethe press. They throng again to the breach

,and the pass i s dis

putod hand to hand, and man to man. I t i s the meet ing of two

fierce t i des— the confl ict of two oceans,m oved by adverse w inds !”

She turned her head from the latt ice,as i f unable longer to endure

a sight so terrible.

“ Look forth again,Rebecca

,sai d Ivanhoe

,m istaking the cause

of her reti ring ;“the archery must in some degree have ceased

s ince they are now fight ing hand to hand. Look again ; there 18now less danger."

Rebecca again looked forth,and almost immediately exclaimed

“ Front - de - Boeuf and the Black Knight fight hand to hand on thebreach

,ami d the roar of their followers

,who watch the progress

1 70 EXER CIS ES IN ELOC’UTI ON.

above all the din and shouts of the battle stones and beams are

hailed down on the bold champion—he regards them no more than

if they were thistledown or feathers ]“ By Saint John of Acre ! ” said Ivanhoe

,raising himself joy

fully ou his couch ;“ methought there was but one man in England

that m ight do such a deed l“ The postern gate shakes

,cont inued Rebecca ;

“ i t crashes

i t i s splintered by his blows they rush in the ou twork is won

they hurl the defenders from the battlements they throw them

into the moat ! Oh, men if y e be indeed men— Spare them that

can resist no longer I

The bridge,the bridge which communicates wi th the cast le,

have they won that pass ? exclaimed Ivanhoe.

“No,

" replied Rebecca ;“ the Templar has destroyed the plank

on which they crossed— few of the defenders escaped wi th him

into the castle—the shrieks and cries wh ich y ou hear, tel l the fate

of the others ! Alas ! I see i t is st i ll more diffi cult to look uponv ictory than upon bat tle !

“ What do they now,mai den ? said Ivanhoe ;

“ look forth y et

again this is no t ime to faint at bloodshed."

“ I t is over for the t ime,

"answered Rebecca. Our friends

strengthen themselves within the outwork which they have mas

tered,and i t affords them so good a shel ter from the foeman

’

s shot,

that the garrison only bestow a few bolts on i t,from interval to

interval,as i f rather to disquiet

'

than effectually to injure them .

"

Wa lter Scott.

Rip VanWinkle.

He now hurried forth,and hastened to his old resort

,the village

inn but i t too was gene. A large rickety wooden building stood

in i ts place,w i th great gaping windows

,some of them broken and

mended with old hats and pet t icoats, and over the door was painted,

“ The Union Hotel,by Jonathan Dool i ttle.

" Instead of the great

tree that used to shelter the quiet l it t le Dutch inn of yore,there

now was reared a tall,naked pole

,wi th something on the top that

looked like a red night- cap, and from i t was fluttering a flag, on

EXER CISES IN ELOCUTION . 1 71

which was a singular assemblage of stars and stripes all this was

strange and incomprehensible. He recognized on the s ign,how

ever, the ruby face of King George, under which he had smoked somany a peaceful pipe ; but even this was s ingularly metamorphosed.The red coat was changed for one of blue and buff

,a sword was

held in the hand instead of a scepter, the head was decorated witha cooked hat, and underneath was painted in large characters

,

GENERAL Wasnmcron.

There was,as usual

,a crowd of folk about the door

,but none

that Rip recollected. The very character of the people seemed

changed. There was a busy,bustling

,diaputatious tone abou t i t

,

instead of the accustomed phlegm and drowsy t ranqui ll i ty. He

looked in vain for the sage N icholas Vedder,with his broad face

,

double chin,and fai r long pipe, ut tering clouds of tobacco smoke

instead of idle speeches ; or Van Bummel, the schoolmaster,doling

forth the contents of an ancient newspaper. In place of these, a

lean,bil ious- looking fel low

,wi th his pockets full of handbills, was

haranguing vehemently abou t rights of ci t izens—elections mem

bers of Congress— l iberty - Bunker’s Hill— heroes of seventy

s ix—and other words,which were a perfect Babylonish jargon to

the bewildered Van Winkle.

The appearance of Rip, wi th his long grizzled heard, his rustyfowling- piece, his uncouth dress, and an army of women and children at his heels , soon at tracted the at tent ion of the tavern polit iciansThey crowded around him ,

eying him from head to foot with greatcurios ity. The orator bustled up to him

,and

,drawing him partly

aside,inqu ired on which side he voted ? ‘ Rip stared in vacant

stupidi ty. Another short but busy lit tle fellow pulled him by thearm

,and

,rising on t iptoe

,inquired in his ear

,

"‘whether he was

Federal or Democrat ? Rip was equally at a loss to comprehend

the question ; when a knowing,self- important old gentleman

,in a

sharp cocked hat, made his way through the crowd,put t ing them

to the righ t and left wi th his elbows as he passed, and plant ing

himself before Van Winkle, wi th one arm akimbo, the other resting

on his cane, his keen eyes and sharp hat penetrat ing,as i t were

,

into his very soul, demanded, in an austere tone,

“ what brough t

him to the election wi th a gun on his shoulder,and a mob at his

heels and whether he meant to breed a riot in the v i llage ? ”

1 72 EXERCISE S IN E LOCUTION.

“ Alas ! gentlemen,cried Rip, somewhat dismayed,

“ I am a poor

qu iet man,a nat i ve of the place, and a loyal subject of the king,

God bless him ! ”

Here a general shout burst from the bystanders—“ A tory ! a

tory ! a spy ! a refugee ! hust le him ! away wi th him ! " It was

wi th great diffi cul ty that the self—important man in the cocked hat

restored order ; and, having assumed a tenfold austerity of brow,demanded again of the unknown culprit

,what he came there for,

and whom he was seeking ? The poor man humbly assured himthat he meant no harm

,but merely came there in search of some

of his neighbors,'

who used to keep about the tavern.

“ Well,who are they ? Name them.

"

Rip bethought himself a moment,and inquired

,

“ Where’sN icholas Vedder ? "

There was a s ilence for a l i ttle while,when an old man replied

,

in a thin,piping vo ice

,

“ N icholas Vedder ! why , he is dead and

gone these eighteen years ! There was a wooden tombstone in the

churchyard that used to te ll all about him,but that's rot ten and

gone too.

"

Where's Brom Dutcher ?Oh

,he went off to the army in the beginning of the war ; some

say he was killed at the storming of S tony Po int—others say he

was drowned in a squall at the foot of Antony’s Nose. I don'

t

know—he never came back again.

”

Where's Van Bummel, the schoolmaster ?He went off toi ba wars too, was a great m ilit ia general, and is

now in Congress."

Rip's heart died away at hearing of these sad changes in his homeand friends, and finding himself thus alone in the world. Everyanswer puzzled him too

,by treating of such enormous lapses of

t ime. and of matters which he could not understand : war—Congress—S tony Po int ; he had no courage to ask after any morefriends, but cried out in despair,

“ Does nobody here know Rip VanWinkle ? "

“ Oh, Rip Van Winkle ! exclaimed two or three,

“ Oh,to be

sure ! that’s Rip VanWinkle yonder, leaning against the tree.

Rip looked, and beheld a precise counterpart of himself,as he

went up the mountain : apparently as lazy,and certainly as ragged.

174 EXER CISES IIv ELOC’UTION .

All s tood amazed,until an old woman

,tottering out from among

the crowd, put her hand to her brow, and peering under i t in his

face for a moment,exclaimed

,

“ Sure enough ! i t is Rip Van Win

kle—i t is himself! Welcome home again,o ld neighbor. Why

,

where have y ou been these twenty long years ?

Rip’s story was soon told,for the whole twenty long years had

been to him but as one nigh t.To make a long story short

,the company broke up, and re turned

to the more important concerns of the elect ion. Rip’

s daugh tertook him home to live w i th her ; she had a snug

,well - furnished

house,and a stout

,cheery farmer for a husband

,whom Rip recol

lected for one of the urchins that used to climb upon his back.The old Du tch inhabi tants almost universally gave it full credit.

Even to this day they never hear a thunder- storm of a summerafternoon about the Kaatskill

,but they say Hendrick Hudson and

his crew are at thei r game of nine - pins ; and i t is a common w ishof all hen - peeked husbands in the ne ighborhood

,when l ife hangs

heavy on thei r hands, that they m ight have a quiet ing draugh t outof Rip Van Winkle

’

s flagon.

Are the Children at Home7

Each day when the glow of sunsetFades in the western sky ,

And the wee ones,t i red of playing,

Go tripping light ly by,

I steal away from my husband,Asleep in his easy - chair

,

And watch from the open doorwayThe i r faces fresh and fai r.

Alone in the dear old homesteadThat once was full of l ife

,

Ringing wi th girl ish laugh ter,Echoing with boyish st rife

,

We two are wait ing together ;And oft

,as the shadows come

,

With tremulous voice he calls me,

“ It is nigh t ! are the ch ildren home ? ”

EXERCISE S IN E LOCUTION.

Yes,love ! I answer him gently,

“ They’re all home long ago ;And s ing

,in my quivering t reble,

A song so soft and low,

Ti ll the old man drops to slumber,Wi th his head upon his hand

,

And I tell to myself the number

Home in the better land

Home,where never a sorrow

Shall dim thei r eyes with tears !Where the smile of God is on themThrough all the summ er y ears !I know l—y et my arms are empty,That fondly folded seven

,

And the mother heart within me

Is almost s tarved for heaven.

Sometimes, in the dusk of evening,I only shut my eyes

,

And the children are all about me

A vis ion from the skies ;The babes whose dimpled fingers

Lost the way to my breast,And the beau tiful ones, the angels

,

Passed to the world of the blessed.

Wi th never a cloud upon them,

I see thei r radiant brows ;My boys that I gave to freedom

The red sword sealed thei r vows !In a tangled Southern fores t,Twin bro thers, bold and- brave.

They fell ; and the flag they d ied for,Thank God ! floats o’er thei r grave.

A breath,and the vision is l ifted

Away on the wings of ligh t,And again we two are together

,

All alone in the nigh t ;

8*

C

u

176 Elm aarses nv e LOCUTION .

They tell me his m ind is failing,But I smile at idle fears ;

He is only back with the children,In the dear and peaceful y ears.

And st ill as the summer sunset

Fades away in the west,And the wee ones, t i red of playing,Go trooping home to rest,

My husband calls from his corner,“ Say , love, have the ch ildren come ?

And I answer, wi th eyes upl ift ed,Yes, dear, they are all at home !

From the School for Scandal."

Lady Teazle, Lady Teazle, I’ll not bear i t.

Lady Teazle. S ir Peter, Sir Peter, y ou may bear i t or not, as y ou

please ; but I ought to have my own way in every thing ; and

what’s more,I will too. What ! though I was educated in the

country,I know very well that women of fashion in London are

accountable to nobody after they are married.

S ir P . Very well, ma’am

,very well—ao a husband is to have no

influence, no authori ty

Lady T. Authority ! No, tobe sure : if y ou wanted authority over

me y ou should have adopted me,and not married me. I am sure

y ou were old enough.

S ir P. Old enough l—ay—there it is. Well

,well

,Lady Teazle

,

though my life may be made unhappy by y our temper, I’ll not be

ruined by your extravagance.Lady 23 My extravagance ! I am sure I am not more ex trava

gant than a woman ought to be.

S ir P . No,no

,madam

, y ou shall throw away no more sumsupon such unmeaning luxury. You Spend as much to furn ish your

dressing—room wi th flowers in winte r as would sumec to turn the

Pantheon into a green- house.

Lady 7! S ir Peter, am I to blame because flowers are dear incold weather ? You should find fault wi th the climate

,and not with

178 EXERCISES IN EL ooUTI ozv.

S ir P . I thank y ou, madam ; but don’

t flatter yourself, for though

your i ll conduct may disturb my peace of m ind,it shall never break

my heart, I promise y ou. However, I am equally obliged to y ou

for the hint.Lady 1! Then why will y ou endeavor to thwart me in every little

expense,and make yourself so disagreeable to me ?

S ir P . Had y ou any of these l ittle elegant expenses when y ou

married me

Lady 7! S ir Peter, would y ou have me out of the fash ion ?

S i r P . The fashion, indeed ! What had y ou to do with the fash i on

before y ou married m e ?

Lady T For my part,I should think y ou would like to have your

wife thought a woman of taste.

S ir P . Ay ; there again—taste. Zounds ! Madam, y ou had no

taste when y ou married me !Lady T That

’

s very t rue,indeed

,S ir Peter ; and having married

y ou, I should never pretend to taste again,I allow. But now

,S ir

Peter,s ince we have finished our dai ly jangle

,I presume I may go

to my engagement at Lady Sneerwell's.S ir P . Ay , there

’s another precious circumstance—a charm ing set

of acquaintances y ou have made there.Lady 7! N ay , S ir Peter, they are all people of rank and fortune

,

and remarkably tenacious of repu tat ion.

S ir P . Yes,they are tenacious of reputation w ith a vengeance ;

for they don’

t choose any body Should have a character but themselves ! Such a crew ! Ah l many a poor wretch has rid on a

hurdle who has done less m ischief than these u t terers of forgedtales

,coiners of scandal

,and clippers of reputat ion.

Lady 73What ! would your restrain the freedom of speech ?S ir P . Ah ! they have made y ou as bad as any one of the society.

Lady T Why , I bel ieve I do bear a part wi th a tolerable grace.

S ir P . Grace, indeed !Lady 7! But I declare I hear no mal ice against the people I abuse.

When I say an ill - natured thing,

't is out of pure good humor ; and

Jtake i t for granted, they deal exactly so wi th me. But,S ir Peter

,

y ou know y ou prom ised to come to Lady Sneerwell’s too.

S ir P . Well,well

,I’ll call in just to look after my own charae'

ter.

E'

XE R CISE'

S IN E LOCUTION . 1 79

Lady T. Then indeed y ou must make haste after me,or you’ll be

too late. 80,good-by e to y ou. [Exi t Lady T.)

S ir P. So—I have gained much by my intended expostulat ion ;y et wi th what a charming air she contradicts every thing I say , andhow pleasingly she shows her contempt for my au thori ty ! Well

,

I can’t make her love me,but there is a sat isfac t ion in quarrel ing

with her ; and I think she never appears to such advantage as whenshe is do ing every th ing in her power to plague me.

SCENE II.

Lady T S ir Peter,I hope y ou haven

’t been quarrel ing wi th

Maria ? It is not using me well to be ill - humored when I am not

by.

S ir P. Ah ! Lady Teazle, y ou might have the power to make me

good- humored at all t imes.Lady 73 I am sure I wish I had; for I want y ou to be in charm

ing sweet temper at this moment . Do be good- humored now, and

let me have two hundred pounds,will y ou ?

S i r P . Two hundred pounds ! What ! ain't I to be in a goodhumor without paying for i t ? But speak to me thus

,and i’ fa i th

there's noth ing I could refuse y ou. You shall have i t ; but seal mea bond of re-

payment.Lady 73 Oh, no ; there—my note of hand will do as well. (Of

fering her hand.)S ir P . And y ou shall no longer reproach me wi th not giving y ou

an independent set t lement. I mean shortly to surprise y ou ; but

shall we always l ive thus, hey ?Lady Z

—If y ou please. I’m sure I don’

t care how soon we

leave ofl‘ quarrel ing

,provided you’ll own you’re ti red out first.

S ir P. Well ; then let our future contest be, who shal l be most

obl iging.

Lady fl ! I assure y ou, S ir Peter, good nature becomes y ou ; y ou

look now as y ou did before we were married, when y ou used to

walk wi th m e under the elms,and tell me stories of what a gallant

y ou were in your youth, and chuck me under the chin, y ou would ;and ask me if I thought I could love an old fellow who would denymc nothing—d idn’

t y ou

S ir P. Yes, y es, and y ou were kind and attenti ve

1 80 E XERCISES IN E LOCUTION.

Lady T Ay e, so I was, and would always take your part whenmy acquaintance would abuse y ou, and turn y ou into ridicule.

S ir P . Indeed !Lady T Ay e, and when my cous in Sophy has called y ou a st iff ,peevish old bachelor, and laughed at me for thinking of marrying

one who m igh t be my father, I have always defended y ou, and said

I didn’t think y ou ugly by any means.

S ir P . Thank y ou.

Lady T. And I dared say would make a very good sort of a

husband.

S ir P . And y ou prophes ied right ; and we shal l be the happiest

couple

Lady T And never difl'

er again ?

Sir P. No, never ! though at the same t ime,indeed

,my dearLady

Teazle, y ou must watch your temper very seriously ; for in all our

l i t tle quarrels,my dear, if y ou recollect, my love, y ou alway s begin

first.Lady T I beg your pardon, my dear S ir Peter ; indeed y ou

always gave the provocat ion.

S ir P. Now see,my angel

,take care—contradict ing isn

’

t the way

to keep friends .

Lady T Then don’

t y ou begin i t, my love.

S ir P . There now ! y ou—y ou—are going on. You don’t per

ceive,my life, that y ou are doing the very th ing which y ou know

always makes me angry.Lady T Nay , y ou know if y ou will be angry without any reason,

my dear

S ir P . There,now

, y ou want to quarrel again.

Lady T You are just what my cous in Sophy said y ou would be.S ir P . Your cousin Sophy is a forward

,impert inent gypsy.

Lady’

T You are a great bear,I’

m sure,to abuse my rela

tions.

S ir P . Now may all the plagues of marriage be doubled on me

if ever I try to be friends wi th y ou any more.Lady T So much the bet ter.

S ir P . No, no, madam ;’t is evident y ou never cared a pin for

me,and I was a madman to marry y ou—a pert rural coquette

,that

had refused half a dozen honest squires in the neighborhood.


And the m ingling of thei r vo icesMade a harmony profound,Til! the quiet street of Ches tnut

Was all turbulent wi th sound.

“ Wi ll they do i t ? " “ Dare they do i t ?“ Who is speaking ? What’s the news 7What of Adams ? ” “ What of Sherman ?Oh ! God grant they won’

t refuse ;“ Make some way there !

“ Let me nearer !I am st ifl ing !" S t ifle

,then !

When a nat ion’

s l ife's at hazard,

We’ve no t ime to think of men.

80 they beat against the portal,

Man and woman,mai d and chi ld ;

And the July sun in heaven

On the scene looked down and sm iled.The same sun that saw the SpartanShed his patriot blood in vain

,

Now beheld the soul of freedom,

All unconquered rise again.

See ! see ! the dense crowd quiversThrough all its lengthy line

,

As the boy beside the portalLooks forth to give the s ign ;Wi th his li ttle hands upl ifted,Breezes dal ly ing wi th his hair,Hark ! with deep

,clear intonation

Breaks his y oung voice on the air.

Hushed the people's swell ing murmur,

List the boy’s exul t ing cry !“ Ring !" he shouts

,ring ! grandpa,

Ring ! oh,ring for LIBERTY

Quickly at the given signalThe old bellman l ifts his hand

,

Forth he sends the good news,making

Iron music through the land.


How they shou ted ! what rejo icing !How the old bell shook the air

,

Till the clang of freedom rufiled

The calm ly gliding Delaware.How the bonfires and the torchesLigh ted up the nigh t's repose

,

And from flames,l ike fabled\ Phoenix

,

Our glorious l iberty arose.

That old S tate House bell is si lent,

Hushed is now its Glamorous tongue ;But the Spiri t it awakened

S t ill is l iving—ever young ;And when we greet the sm i l ing sunl ight,On the fourth of each July

,

We will ne’er forget the bellman,

Who,betwix t the earth and sky ,

Rang out loudly “ INDEPENDENCE,

Which,please God

,shall never die.

Mary Maloney’s Philosophy .

What are y ou singing for ? sai d I to Mary Maloney.“ Oh, I don

’

t know,ma

’am

,wi thout i t’s because my heart feels

happyHappy

,are y ou, Mary Maloney ? Let me see ; y ou don

’

t own

a foot of land in the world 7“ Foot of land, is i t ?

"she cried

,with a hearty Irish laugh ; oh

,

what a hand y e be after joking ; why , I haven’

t a penny,let alone

the land.”

Your mo ther is dead !

God rest her soul, y es, replied Mary Maloney, wi th a touch of

genuine pathos ; may the angels make her bed in heaven.

Your brother is s t i ll a hard case, I suppose.Ah. y ou may we]! say that. It

’

s nothing but drink,drink

,

drink,and beat ing his poor wife, that she is, the creature.

”

You have to pay your li ttle s ister'

s board.

184 EXER CISES IN ELOCUTION .

Sure,the bi t creature, and she’s a good little girl, is Hinny,

willing to do whate ver I axes her. I don’t grudge the money what

goes for that ."

You haven’t many fashionable dresses ei ther, Mary Maloney.

“ Fashionable,is i t ? Oh, y es, I put a piece of whalebone in my

skirt,and me cal ico gown looks as big as the great ladies’. But

then y e says true,I hasn’

t but two gowns to me back, two shoes to

me feet,and one bonnet to me head

,barring the old hood y e gave

me.

You haven’t any lover, Mary Maloney.

Oh,be off wid y e—ketch Mary Maloney gett ing a lover these

days,when the hard t imes is come. No

,no

,thank Heaven I

haven’t got that to t rouble me y e t, nor I don

’

t want i t.“ What on earth

,then

,have y ou got to make y ou happy ? A

drunken brother,a poor helpless s ister

,no mother

,no father

,no

lover ; why, where do y ou get all your happiness from

The Lord be praised,Miss

,it growed up in me. Give me a bit

of sunshine,a clean dure

,plenty of work

,and a sup at the right

t ime,and I

’

m made. That makes me laugh and s ing,and then if

deep t rouble comes,why

,God helpin

’me

,I’ll try to keep my heart

up. Sure,i t would be a sad thing if Patrick McGrue should take i t

into his head to come an ax me,but

,the Lord willin’

,I’d try to bear

up under i t.Phi ’adelphia Bul letin.

The Ballad of Babie Bell.

I.

Have y ou not heard the poets tellHow came the dainty Babie BellInto this world of ours ?

The gates of heaven were left ajarWi th folded hands and dreamy eyes,Wandering out of Paradise

,

She saw this planet,l ike a star

,

Hung in the gli ttering depths of even,Its bridges, running to and fro

,

186 EXERCIS ES IN EL OCUTION .

And for the love of those dear eyesFor love of her whom God led forth

(The mother’s being ceas ed on earth

When Babie came from Paradise

For love of him who smote our l i ves,And woke the chords of joy and pain

,

We said, Dear Chris t ! our hearts bent down

Like violets after rain.

IV.

And now the orchards, which were white

And red wi th blossoms when she came,

Were rich in autumn’

s mellow prime,

The clus tered apples burnt like flame,

The soft- checked peaches blushed and fell,

The ivory chestnut burst i ts shel l,

The grape hung purpling in the grange,

And t ime wrought just as rich a changeIn li ttle Babie Bell.

Her lissome form more perfect grew,

And in her features we could trace,In softened curves, her mother

’

s face,

Her angel- nature ripened too,

We thought her lovely when she came,

But she was holy,saintly now

,

Around her pale angel i c brow

We saw a slender ring of flame !

God’s hand had taken away the sealThat held the portals of her speech ;

And oft she sai d a few strange wo rds,Whose meaning lay beyond our reach.

She never was a child to us,

We never held her be ing’s key ;We could not teach her holy things

,

She was Christ’s self in puri ty.

E XE RCISE S IN ELOC’UTION . 1 87

VI.

It came upon us by degrees,We saw i ts shadow '

ere i t fell,

The knowledge that our God had sentHis messenger for Babie Bell.We shuddered with unlanguaged pain,

And all our though ts ran into tears,Like sunshine into rain.

We cried aloud in our bel ief,

Oh,sm ite us gently

,gent ly

,God !

Teach us to bend and kiss the rod,

And perfect grow through grief,

Ah, how we loved her, God can te ll ;Her heart was folded deep in ours ;Our hearts are broken Babie Bell.

At last he came,the mes senger

,

The messenger from unseen lands,

And what did dainty Babie Bell ?She only crossed her hands

,

She only looked more meek and fai r !We parted back her s ilken hai r ;We wove the roses round her brow

,

Whi te buds, the summer

’

s drifted snow,

Wrapped her from head to foot in flowers,And thus went dainty Babie Bell

Out of this world of ours !Thomas B ai ley A ldrich.

The Irishwoman’s Letter.

And sure, I was tould to come in t ill ver honer,To see would y e wri te a few lines to me Pat

,

He's gone for a soger is M istherO'

Cbnner,

Wid a sthripe on his arm,and a band on his hat.

And what 'i ll y e tell him ? shure i t must be aisy

For the l ikes of y er honor to spake with the pen,


Tell him I’m well, and mavourneen Daisy

(The baby y er honor) , is better again.

For when he wint off so sick was the cray ther,

She niver hilt up her blue eyes t i ll his face ;And when I'd be cry in he

'

d look at me wild like,And ax

“ would I wish for the counthry’

s disgrace.”

So he left her in danger, an me sorely gravin,And followed the flag wid an Irishman

’

s joy ;And i ts often I drama of the big drums a bat in,And a bullet gone straight to the heart of my boy .

Tel l him to sind us a bi t of his money,

For the rint and the docther’s bill

,due in a wake

,

An,shure there’s a tear on y er eyelashes honey,I’ faith I’ve no right with such fradom to spake.

I'

m over much thrifling, I’ll not give y e trouble,

I'll find some one will in—oh what can i t be ?

What's that in the newspaper folded up double ?

Yer honor,don

'

t hide i t,but rade i t to me.

Dead i Patrick O'

Conner ! oh God its some ither,

Shot dead ! shure ’t is a wake scarce gone by

,

An the kiss on the chake of his sorrow in mother,

It hasn’

t had t ime y et y er honor to dhry.

Dead ! dead ! 0 God,am I crazy

Shure i ts brakin my heart y e are telling me 80,An what en the world will I do wid poor Daisy ?0 what can I do ? where can I go ?

This room is so dark—I’m not seein y er honor,I th ink I'll go home—And a sob hard and dry

,

Rose up from the bosom of Mary O'

Conner,

But never a tear drop welled up to her ey e.


A t ime for labor and thought,A t ime to serve and to s in ;

They gave him l igh t in his ways,And love and a space for delight,

And beauty and length of days,

And night,and sleep in the night.

His Speech is a burning fi‘

re ;

Wi th his lips he travai leth ;In his heart is a blind des i re,In his eyes foreknowledge of death ;

He weaves,and is clo thed with deris ion ;

Sows,and he shall not reap ;

H is l ife is a watch or a vis ion

Between a sleep and a sleep.

Darius Green and his Fly ing Machine.

If ever there l i ved a Yankee lad,

Wise or otherwise,good or bad

,

Who,seeing the birds fly, did n

’

t jump

Wi th flapping arms from stake or stump,Or

,

spreading the tailOf his coat for a sai l

,

Take a soaring leap from post ororail,

And wonder why

He could n'

t fly,

And flap and flutter and wish and try ,If ever y ou knew a country dunceWho did n’

t try that as often as once,

All I can say is, that’s a sign

He never would do for a hero of mine.

An aspi ring genius was D. Green

The son of a farmer,

age fourteen ;His body was long and lank and lean

,

Just right for flying,as w ill be seen ;

Swtnbum

EXERCISE S IN Ew enTION.

He had two eyes as bright as a bean,

And a freckled nose that grew between,

A l i ttle awry,

for I must mention

That he had rive ted his attention

Upon his wonderful invention,Twisting his tongue as he twiste d the strings,And working his face as he worked the wings,And wi th every turn of gimlet and screwTurning and screwing his mouth round too,

Till his nose seemed bentTo catch the scent,

Around some corner,of new- baked pies,

And his wrinkled cheeks and squinting eyesGrew puckered into a queer grimace,That made him look very droll in the face

,

And also very wise.

And wise he must have been, to do moreThan ever a genius did before,Excepting Daedalus of yore,And his son Icarus, who wore

Upon thei r backs

Those wings of wax

He had read of in the the old almanacks.Darius was clearly of the Opinion,That the air is also man'

s dominion,And that, with paddle, or fin or pinion,

We soon or lateShall navigate

The azure as now we sai l the sea.The thing looks simple enough to me ;

And if y ou doubt it,Hear how Darius reasoned about i t.

“ The birds can fly,

An’ why can't I ?

Must we give in,”

9

191

1 92 EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION .

Says he with a grin,That the bluebird an’ phoebeAre smarter ’

n we be

Jest fold our hands an' see the swal ler

An’ blackbird an’ catbird beat us holler

Doos the l i ttle chat terin'

,sassy wren,

No bigger'n my thumb, know more than men ?

Jest show me that ?

Ur prove 't the bat

Hez got more brains than’s in my hat,

An' I '11 back down, an

’not ti ll then 7”

He argued further : “ Nor I can’t see

What'

s th’

use 0’ wings to a bumble-bee,

Fur to gi t a li vin’ with

,more '

n to me ;

Ain'

t my business

Important ’s his ’n i s ?

That Icarus

Made a perty muss,

Him an’

his daddy Daedalus.

They m ight 'a’ knowed wings made 0

’wax

Would 'nt stand sun- heat an’ hard whacks.I ’

ll make m ine 0’ luther

,

Ur suthin’ur other.”

And he sai d to himself, as he t inkered and plannedBut I ain’

t goin’to show my hand

To nummies that never can unders tand

The fust idee that ’s big an’ grand."

So he kept his secret from all the rest,

S afely buttoned wi thin his vest ;And in the loft above the shed

Himself he looks,with thimble and thread

,

And wax and hammer and buckles and screws,

And all such things as geniuses use,

Two bats for patterns,curious fellows !

A charcoal- pot and a pai r of bellows ;

194 E XERCISES IN ELOCUTION.

Half mist, half air,Like foam on the ocean went floating by ,Just as lovely a morning as ever was seen

For a nice li t tle trip in a fly ing-machine.

Thought cunning Darius : Now I sha'n’t go

Along ’i th the fellers to see the show.

I ’ll say I’ve got s ich a terrible cough

An'then

,when the folks '

ave all gone off,I ’ll have full swingFur to try the thing,

An’ practice a l itt le on the wing!

"

Ain't goin’ to see the celebration ?Says brother Nate.

“ No ; botheration l

I ’ve got s ich a cold a toothache I

My gracious l—feel ’s though I should fly I

Said Jotham,

“ ’Sho lGuess y e better go.

"

But Darius said, No !

Should n’t wonder ’f y ou m ight see me, though,’Long ’bout noon, ef I get red

0’this jumpin

'

,thumpin

’ pain ’n my head.

For all the while to himse lf he said

I tell y e -whatI ’ll fly a few times around the lot,To see how

’t seems

,tneu soon

's I 've got

The hang o' the thing,ez likely ’

s not,

I ’

ll astonish the nat ion,

An’ all creation,

By fly in’

over the celebrat ion !Over thei r heads I 'll sail l ike an eag le ;

I ’ll balance myself on my wings l ike a sea-

gull ;I ’ll dance on the chimbleys ; I

’ll stand on the steeple ;I ’ll flop up to winders an

’

scare the people !


I ’ll light on the liberty- pole,an

' crow ;An

’ I ’ll say to the gawpin’fools below

,

What world 's th is ’

ere

That I ’ve come near

Fur I ’ll make ’em b

’lieve I

'm a chap f'm

An I 'll try a race ’i th their 01

' balloon l

He crept from his bed ;And seeing the others were gone

,he said

,

I'm gittin

’over the cold '

n my head."

And away he sped,

To’

open the wonderful box in the shed.

His brothers had walked but a l i ttle way ,When Jotham to Nathan chanced to say ,

What is the feller up to, heyDon

’o'

, the'

s sathin’ ar other to pay ,Ur he would n’

t’

a’stayed to hum to - day .

Says Burke, His toothache's all '

n his ey e !

He never ’d miss a Fo’th - o’-July

,

Ef he hed n'

t got some mach ine to try .

Then Sol, the li ttle one,spoke :

Le’s hurry back eu' hide '

n the barn,

An’ pay him fur tell in'us that yarn l

Agreed I Through the orchard they creep

Along by the fences, behind the stack,And one by one, through a hole in the wall

,

In under the dusty barn they crawl,Dressed in thei r S unday garments all ;And a very astonishing s ight was that,When each in his cobwebbed coat and hat

Came up through the floor like an ancient rat.

And there they hid;And Reuben slid

The fastenings back, and the door undid.“ Keep dark ! said he

,

While I squint nu' see what the’

i s to see.”

moon

195


As knights of old put on their mail,From head to foot

An i ron su it,Iron jacket and iron boot,Iron breeches, and on the head

No hat, but an i ron pot instead,And unde r the chin the bai l,

(I believe they called the thing a helm,)Then sal lied forth to overwhelm

The dragons and pagans that plagued the realm ,

So this modern knight,Prepared for flight

,

Put on his wings and st rapped them tight,Jointed an‘

d jaunty,strong and light,

Buckled them fast to shoulder and hip,Ten feet they measured from t ip to t ip ]

And a helm had he,but that he wore,

Not on his head,l ike those of yore

,

But more l ike the helm of a sh ip.

Hush ! Reuben sai d.He

'

8 up in the shed !

He 's opened the winder, I see his head !

He st retches i t out,

An’ pokes i t about

,

Lookin' to see'f the coast is clear

,

An’nobody near

Guess he don'o’ who 's hi d in here !

He 's riggin’ a Spring- board over the sill !

S top laffin', Solomon ! Burke, keep s ti ll !He

’s a cl imbin

'

out now Of all the th ings !What ’s be got on 7 I van, i t

's wings !

An’that ’

t other thing ? I vum,i t

’s a tai l !

An’ there he se ts l ike a hawk on a rai l !S teppin

’ careful, he t ravels the lengthOf his spring- board

,and teeters to t ry its strength.

Now he stretches his wings like a monstrous bat ;


MORAL.

I just have room for the moral here '

And this is the moral , S t ick to your sphere.

Or if y ou insist, as y ou !have the right,On spreading your w ings for a loft ier fl ight,The moral is

,Take care how y ou light.

J r. ”m r-(doe

No Sect in Heaven.

Talking of sects t ill late one eve,

Of the various doct rines the saints bel ieve,

That night I stood in a troubled dream ,

By the s i de of a darkly -flowing stream .

And a Churchman down to the river cameWhen I heard a st range vo ice cal l his name,“ Good father

,stop ; when y ou cross this t ide,

You must leave your robes on the other side.

”

But the aged father did not mind,

And his long gown floated ou t behind,

As down to the stream his way he took,His pale hands clasping a gilt - edged book.

“ I’

m bound for Heaven, and when I'

m there

I shall want my book of Common Prayer ;And though I put on a starry crown

,

I should feel qui te lost wi thout my gown.

"

Then he fixed his eyes oii'

the shining t rack,

But his gown was heavy,and held him back

And the poor old father tried in vain,

A s ingle step in the flood to gain.

I saw him again on the other s ide,

But his s i lk gown floated on the t ide ;And no one asked in that blissful spot,Whether he belonged to the Church or not.

EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION .

When down to the river a Quaker strayed.His dress of a sober hue was made ;My coat and hat must be all gray,I cannot go any o ther way .

"

Then he bu ttoned his coat st raigh t up to his chin,

And staidly,solemnly

,waded in

,

And his broad- brimmed hat he pulled down t ightOver his forehead

, so cold and white.

But a strong Wind carried away his hat ;A moment he silently s ighed over that,And then

,as he gazed on the farther shore,

The coat,slipped oil“

,and was seen no more.

As he entered Heaven, his suit of gray

Went quietly sail ing away,away

,

And none of the angels quest ioned him

About thewidth of his beaver’s brim .

N ext came Dr. Watts w ith a bundle of Psalms,

Tied nicely up in his aged arms,

And hymns as many,a very wise th ing

,

That the people in Heaven,

all round,

"might s ing.

But I though t that he heaved an anxious sigh,

As he saw that the river ran broad and high,

And looked rather surprised as, one by oneThe Psalms and Hymns in the wave went down.

And after him with his MSS .,

Came Wesley,the pattern of godliness ;

But he cried,Dear me

,what shall I do

The water has soaked them through and through.

And there on the river, for and wi de,

Away they went down the swollen t ide,And the saint astonished passed through alone,Wi thout his manuscrip ts up to the throne.

9a

199


Then gravely walking, two saints by name,

Down to the stream together came ;

But as they stopped at the ri ver’s brink,I saw one saint from the other shrink.

Sprinkled or plunged,may I ask y ou, friend,

How y ou attained to l ife's great end“ Thus

,wi th a few drops on my brow,

But I have been dipped, as you'

ll see me now

And I really think i t will hardly do,As I

’

m close communion,

’to cross with y ou ;

You’re bound,I know

,to the realms of bl iss,

But y ou must go that way , and I'

ll go this.

Then straigh tway plunging wi th all his migh t,Away to the left— his friend at the right,Apart they went from this world of s in

,

B ut at last together they entered in.

And, now,when the ri ver i s roll ing on

,

A Presbyterian Church went down ;Of women there seemed an innumerable throng

,

But the men I could count as they passed along.

And concerning the read,they could never agree

,

The old or the new way , which i t cou ld be,Nor even a moment paused to think

That both would lead to .the river’s brink.

And a sound of murmuring long and loudCame ever up from the moving crowd,You’re in the old way , and I

’m in the new

That is the false,and this is the true ;

Or,

“ I’

m in the old way , and you’re in the new

,

That is the false,and this is the t rue.

But the brethren only seemed to speak,

Modest the sisters walked. and meek,

And if ever one of them chanced to say


Are eloquen t with voices,that proclaim

The unseen glories of immens i ty,In harmonies

,too perfect, and too high,

For aught but beings of celestial mould,And speak to man i n one eternal hymn,Unfading beauty

,and unyielding power.

The year leads round the seasons,in a cho ir

For ever charm ing, and for ever new,

Blending the grand, the beau t iful , the gay ,The mournful, and the tender, in one strain,Which steals into the heart, l ike sounds that riseFar off

,in moonlight evenings, on the shore

Of the wide ocean resting after s torms ;Or tones that wind around the vaulted roof,And pointed arches

,and ret iring aisles

Of some old,lonely m inster

,where the hand

,

Skillful,and moved wi th pass ionate love of art

,

Plays o’er the higher keys,and bears aloft

The peals of burst ing thunder,and then cal ls

,

By mellow touches,from the softer tubes

,

Vo ices of melt ing tenderness, that blend

Wi th pure and gent le musings,t i ll the soul

,

Comm ingling wi th the melody,is borne

,

Rapt,and dissolved in ecstasy

,to Heaven.

’T is not the chime and flow of words

,that move

In measured fi le,and metrical array ;

“

T is not the union of returning sounds,N or all the pleas ing ar tifice of rhyme

,

And quant ity,and accent

,that can give

This all - pervading spiri t to the ear,

Or blend i t with the movings of the soul.'T is a mysterious fee l ing

,which combines

Man wi th the world around him,in a chain

Woven of flowers,and dipped in sweetness

,t i ll

He taste the high communion of his thoughts,

W ith all existences,in earth and Heaven

,

That meet him in the charm of grace and power.

EXERCISES nv Enocnrzoar.

’T is not the noisy babbler

,who displays,

In studied phrase,and ornate epithet,

And rounded period, poor and vapid thoughts,Which peep from out the cumbrous ornamentsThat ove rload thei r li ttleness. Its wordsAre few

,but deep and solemn ; and they break

Fresh from the fount of feeling,and are full

Of all that pass ion,which

,on Carmel

,fired

The holy prophet, when his l ips were coals,His language winged wi th terror

,as when bolts

Leap from the brooding tempest,armed with wrath,

Commiss ioned to afi'

right us and destroy.

Well I remember,in my boyish days,

How deep the feeling when my ey e looked forthOn Nature

,in her loveliness

,and storms.

How my heart gladdened, as the l ight of springCame from the sun, wi th zephy rs, and wi th showers,Waking the earth to beau ty, and the woods

To music, and the atmosphere to blow,Sweetly and calmly

,w i th i ts breath of balm.

0,how I gazed upon the dazzling blue

Of summer‘s Heaven of glory, and the waves,That rolled

,in bending gold, o

’er h ill and plain ;

And on the tempest, when i t issued forth,In folds of blackness, from the northern sky ,

And stood above the mountains, silent, dark,Frowning, and terrible ; then sent abroad

The ligh tning, as i ts herald , and the pea],That rolled in deep, deep volley s, round the hills,The warn ing of i ts com ing, and the sound

That ushe red in i ts elemental war l

And, oh ! I stood , in breathless longing fixed,Trembl ing, and y et not fearful, as the cloudsHeaved thei r dark b illows on the roaring winds,That sent, from mountain tep, and bending wood,A long hoarse marmer

,like the rush of waves,

That burs t, in foam and fury, on the shore.

03

2041 Alu marse s IN E LOCUTION.

Nor less the swell ing of my heart, when h igh

Rose the blue arch of autumn,cloudless

,pure

As Nature,at her dawning, when she sprang

Fresh from the hand that wrough t her ; where the ey e

Caugh t not a speck upon the soft serene,To stain i ts deep cerulean, but the cloud,That floated

,l ike a lonely spirit

,there,

Whi te as the snow of Zemla,or the foam

That on the m id- sea tosses,cinctured round,

In easy undulat ions,wi th a bel t

,

Woven of bright Apollo’s golden hai r.N or

,when that arch

,in winter's clearest nigh t

,

Mantled in ebon darkness,strewed wi th stars

I ts canopy,that seemed to swe ll

,and swel l

The higher,as I gazed upon i t

,t i ll

,

Sphere after sphere,evolving

,on the heigh t

Of heaven,the everlast ing throne shone through,

In glory’s full efl’ulgence, and a wave,Intensely bright

,rolled

,l ike a fountain, forth

Beneath i ts sapphire pedestal,and streamed

Down the long galaxy,a flood of snow

,

Bathing the heavens in ligh t,the spring that gushed,

In overflowing richness,from the breast

Of all- maternal nature. These I saw,

And felt to madness ; but my ful l heart gaveN o utterance to the inefi

'

able wi thin.

Words were too weak ; they were unknown ,but st i ll

The feel ing was most poignant : i t has gone,

And all the deepest flow of sounds,that e’er

Poured,in a torrent fullness

,from the tongue

Rich wi th the wealth of ancient bards,and stored

With all the patriarchs of Brit ish song

Hal lowed and rendered glorious,cannot tel l

Those feel ings, which have died, to l ive no more.

Percival

206 Exes arses IN ELOC’UTION.

the gentlemanly clerk, with a pity ing sm ile,informs y ou,

‘0,we

cannot help that] There are m ice all over the house !

Moral reflection : If ever the educat ion of a soaring human boy

be intrusted to my care, I wi ll endeavor to model his manners onthose of a clerk in a hotel. For consc ious superiori ty, tempered

wi th benevolence and swathed in suavi ty ; for perfect self- possession ; for high- bred condescens ion to the ignorance and tolerationof the weakness of others ; for absolute equality to ci rcumstances,and a certain grace, assurance, and flourish of bearing, —give me a

clerk in a hotel. We may see generals, poets and philosophers,indist inguishable from the common herd ; but a true hotel clerkwears on his beauteous brow, and in his noble mien, the indubi tablesign of greatneSS.

From Albany to N iagara is a pleasant day’s journey, and the

N iagara m ice are not quite so large,nor qui te so lively, as those of

Easte rn New York. They do not appear t ill the second day .

Then,rest ing quietly after a walk

, y ou see a mouse creep tim idly

from under the bureau. You improvise a sort of pontoon bridge to

the bell, out of your chai rs and tables, and, as i t is day - t ime,secure

a chambermaid and superintend a mouse hunt. She Wh isks about

the room enthusiastically, peers under all the furni ture, assuring y outhe while that it is four years now she has been in the house and

never saw a mouse in the chambers,though she confesses to having

seen them in the kitchen, and,being hard pressed

,we ll

,she has

seen them in the passages ; but in the chambers,no l never i and

y ou are led to believe that,though a mouse might stand shivering

on the brink of your room,he would fear to step foot over the

threshold. No, there is no mouse here,not a sign of a mouse.

“ No s ign of a mouse, except the mouse i tself, y ou suggest.Ah ! but y ou must have been m is taken. I t was a shadow.

Why" (with a grand flourish of the valance wi th her right hand,

and in the"

air wi th her left) ,“

y ou can see for yourself there is no

mouse here,"

and she th inks she has made her point.You look at her

, debat ing wi thin yourself whether i t is worthwhile to at tempt to acquaint her wi th the true province of negat ives

,the proper disposit ion of the burden of proof

,and the sophis

try of an undue assumption of the major premise,and decide that i t

is not.


Moral and phi lological reflect ion : We see now the reason whytrunks and traveling- bags are called traps. Synecdoche : Because

the mouse- traps are the most important part of your luggage.

Gai l Hami lton.

A Legend of Bregenz

Girt round wi th rugged mountains,The fair Lake Constance l ies ;

In her blue heart reflectedShine back the starry skies ;

And,watch ing each whi te cloudlet

Float s ilently and slow,

You th ink a piece of HeavenLies on our

'

earth below l

Midnight is there : and S ilence,Enthroned in Heaven

,looks down

Upon her own calm m i rror,

Upon a sleeping town :For Bregenz, that quaint ci ty

Upon the Tyrol shore,Has stood above Lake ConstanceA thousand years and more.

Her bat tlements and towers,From 05 the i r rocky steep,Have cast thei r t rembling shadow

For ages on the deep :Mountain, and lake, and valley,A sacred legend know ,

Of how the town was saved, one night,Three hundred years ago.

Far from her home and kindred,A Tyrol mai d had fled,

To serve in the Swiss valleys,And toi l for daily bread ;

And every year that fleeted

So s i lently and fast,

Seemed to bear farther from her

The memory of the Past.


She served kind, gentle maste rs,

Nor asked for rest or change ;Her friends seemed no more new ories,

Their speech seemed no more strange ;And when she led her cattle

To pas ture every day ,She ceased to look and wonder

On which s ide Bregenz lay .

She spoke no more ofBregenz,With longing and with tears ;

Her Tyrol home seemed fadedIn a deep m ist of years ;

She heeded not the rumors

OfAustrian war and st rife ;Each day she rose contented

,

To the calm toi ls of l ife.

Yet, when her master’

s ch ildren

Would clustering round her stand,She sang them ancient balladsOfher own nat i ve land ;

And when at morn and evening

She knelt before God’s throne,

The accents of her chi ldhoodBose to her l ips alone.

And so she dwel t : the val leyMore peaceful year b year ;When suddenly stran e portentsOf some great deed seemed near.

The golden corn was bending

Upon i ts fragile stalk,

While farmers,heedless of thei r fields,

1Q Paced up and down in talk.

x

“‘

5 ll

The men seemed stem and altered,

W ith looks cast on the ground ;With anx ious faces

,one by one

,

The women gathered round ;


Nothing she heard around her

(Though shouts rang forth again) ,Gone were the green Swiss valleys,The pasture, and the plain ;Before her eyes one vis ion,And in her heart one cry,That said, Go forth, save Bregenz,And then

,if need be, die l

With trembling haste and breathless,With noiseless step, she sped ;Horses and weary cat t le

Were s tanding in the shed ;She loosed the strong

,whi te charger

,

That fed from out her hand,

She mounted,and she turned his head

Toward her nat ive land.

Out—out into the darkness

Faster, and st i ll more fast ;The smooth grass flies behind her

,

The chestnu t wood is pas t ;She looks up ; clouds are heavy ;Why is her steed so slow ?

S carcely the wind bes ide them

Can pass them as they go.

Faster ! " she cries,“ Ofaster !

E leven the church - bel ls chime

OGod,

”

she cries,“ help Bregenl ,

And bring me there in t ime ! "

But louder than bells' ringing,

Or lowing of the kine,

Grows nearer in the m idnightThe rushing of the Rhine.

Shall not the roaring waters.The i r headlong gallop check ?

The steed draws back in terror,She leans upon his neck


To watch the flowing darknessThe bank is high and steep ;One pause - he staggers forward.And plunges in the deep.

She strives to pierce the blackness,And looser throws the rein ;

Her steed must breast the waters

That dash above his mane.How gallantly, how nobly ,He struggles through the foam

,

And see—ia the far distanceShine out the lights of home !

Up the steep bank he hears her,And now

,:they rush again

Towards the heights of Bregenz,That tower above the plain.

They reach the gate ofBregenz

Just as the midnight r ings,And out come sert

'

and soldierTo meet the news she brings.

Bregenz is saved ! Ere daylightHer battlements are manned ;

Defiance greets the army

That marches on the land.And if to deeds heroic

Should endless fame be paid,Bregenz does well to honorThe noble Tyrol maid.

Three hundred years are vanished,And y et upon the h i ll

An old stone gateway rises,To do her honor still.

And there when Bregenz women

Si t spinning in the shade,They see in quaint old carvingThe Charger and the Maid.

911


And when, to guard old Bregenz,By gateway

,st reet and tower

,

The warder paces all nigh t longAnd calls each passing hour ;

“ N ine,

”ten,

" “eleven

,he cries

And then (0 crown of Fame 1)When m idnight pauses in the skies,He calls the maiden

'

s name lAdelai de PI cater.

The Grandmother’s Apology .

And Willy,my eldest born

,18 gone

, y ou say , l i t tle Annie ?Buddy and white

,and strong on his legs, he looks l ike a man.

And Willy's wife'

has wri t ten : she never was overwise,Never the wife for Willy : he wouldn’

t takemy advice.

For,Annie, y ou see

,her father was not the man to save ;

Hadn't a head to manage,and drank himself into his grave.

P retty enough,very pret ty ! but I was against i t for one.

Eh l—but he wouldn’

t hear me— and Willy, y ou say , is gone.

Why do y ou look at me, Annie ? y ou think I am haifi and cold ;But all my chi ldren—have gone before me

,I am s; old :

I cannot weep for Willy, nor can I weepfor the rest ;Only at your age, Annie, I could have wept wi th the best.

For I remember a quarrel I had with your father,my dear,

All for a slanderous story, that cost m'

amany a tear.

I mean your grandfather,Annie : i t cost me a world of woe,

S eventy years ago, my darl ing, seventy years ago.

Willy had not been down to the farirflfor a week and a day ;And all things look

’d half- dead

,tho

'

it was the m i ddle of May .

Jenny,to slander me

,who knew what Jenny had been!

Bu t so il ing another, Annie, will never make oneself clean.

And I cried myselfw ell - nigh blind,and all of an evening late

I climb’d to the t0p of the garth, and stood by the road at the gate.The moon l ike a rick on fire was rising over the dal e,And whit

,whi t

,whi t

,in the bush besi de me

, chir‘

rupt the nightingale.

21 4 EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION.

And y e t know for a tru th, there’s none of them left‘alive ;

For Harry went at sixty, your father at sixty- dve,

And Wi lly,my eldest born, at nigh threescore a? ten ;

I knew them all as babies,and now they

’re elderly men.

So Willy has gone,my beauty, my eldest- born,my flow

-

c

g;But how can I weep for Willy, he has but gone for anHour,Gone for a m inute

,my son

,from this roomlinto the next ;

I too,shal l go in a m inute. What t ime have I to be vext ?

And Willy’s w ifei-has wri tteh, she never was overs e.

Get me my glasses, Annie : thank God that I keep my eyes.There is but a t rifle left y ou, when I shall have past away.But stay wi th the old woman

'

now : y ou cannot have 10613 to stay.Tenny son.

What is Glory ? What is Fame7What is Glory ? What is Fame ?The echo of a long- lost name ;A breath

,an idle hour’s brief talk ;

The shadow of an errant naught ;A flower that blossoms for a day ,

Dying next morrowA stream that hurries on i ts way ,

S inging of sorrow ;The las t drop of a bootless shower

,

Shed on a sere and leafless bower ;A rose, stuck in a dead man’

s breastThis is the World’s fame at the bes t !

What is Fame ? and what is Glory ?A dream

,- a jester’s lying story

,

To t ickle fools withal,or be

A theme for second infancy ;A joke scrawled on an epitaph

A grin at Death’s own ghastly laugh ;A Visioning that tempts the ey e,

But mocks the touch—nonent i ty ;

EXERcrs s '

s IN ELOCUTION. 213

A rainbow, substanceless as bright,Flit ting forever

O'er h ill - top to more distant height,

Nearing us never ;A bubble blown by fond concei t,In very sooth itself to cheat ;The wi tch- fire of a frenz ied brainA fortune that to lose were gain ;A word of praise, perchance of blame ;The wreck of a t ime- bandied name

,

Ay , this is Glory 1—this is Fame lMotherwd l.

The Progress of Poesy .

In climes beyond the solar road ,Where shaggy forms o’er ice- built mountains roam,The Muse has broke the twiligh t gloom

To cheer the shivering nat ive’s dul l abode.

And oft,beneath the od’rene shade

OfChil i’s boundless forests laid,She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat ,In loose numbers wildly sweet,Thei r feather- cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves.Her track, where

'er the goddess roves ,

Glory pursue, and gen'

rous Shame,Th

’ unconquerable Mind, and freedom’s holy flame.

Woods, that wave o’er Delphi’s steep,

Isles, that crown th’

E gean deep,Fields, that cool Ilissus laves,Or where Mwander

'

s amber waves

In l ingering lab’rinths creep,How do your tuneful echoes languish,Mute, but to the vo ice of anguish !

Where each old poet ic mountain

Inspiration breathed around ;Ev’ry shade and hal low

’d fountain

Murmur’

d deep a solemn sound :

Till the sad Nine, in Greece’

s evil hour,Left the i r Parnassus for the Lat ian plains.

10

2166 EXERCISES IN Ehocwmm

Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power,And coward Vice, that revels in her chains.When Lat ium had her lofty spi rit lost,They sough t

,OAlbion ! next thy sea- enci rcled

Far from the sun and summer- gale,In thy green lap was Nature’s darling laid,What tim

'

e,where lucid Avon stray

'

d,

To him the m ighty mother did unvei lHer awful face : the dauntless ch i ldS tretch

’d forth his l i tt le arms and sm i led.

“ This penci l take (she said) , whose colors clearRichly paint the vernal yearThine too these golden keys, immortal Boy ]This can unlock the gates ofjoy ;Of horror that, and thrill ing fears,Or Ope the sacred source of sympathet ic tears."

Nor second He, that rode sublimeUpon the seraph—wings of ecstasy

,

The secrets of th'

abyss to Spy .

He pass’

d the flaming bounds of place and timeThe l iving throne

,the sapphire blaze

,

Where angels tremble while they gaze,He saw ; but, blasted wi th excess of l ight

,

Closed his eyes in endless n ight.Behold, where Dryden

’s less presumptuous car

Wide o’er the fields of glory bear

Two coursers of ethereal race,With necks in thunder clothed, and long- resounding

Hark,his hands the lyre explore !

Bright- eyed Fancy,hov

’ring o

’

er,

S catters from her pictured urnThough ts that breathe, and words that burn.But ah !

’t is heard no more

0 lyre divine ! What daring Spiri tWakes thee now ? Though he inherit

Nor the pride, nor ample pin ion,That the Theban eagle bear

,

2 18 EXERCISES 71V ELOCUTI DN .

come whi te,was now turning from white to a slaty gray. The sea

beneath,leaden- hued and dull. N o breath, no wave

,no no ise.

Far as ey e could reach, the desert ocean. No sail was visible on

any s ide. The birds had disappeared. Some monstrous t reason

seemed abroad.The wall of cloud grew vis ibly larger.This moving mountain of vapors

,which was approaching the

Douvres,was one of those which m ight be called the clouds of

battle S inister appearances ; some strange,furt ive glance seemed

cast upon the beholder through that obscure mass up- piled.The approach was terrible.

Gilliat t observed i t closely,and muttered to himself

,

“ I am

thristy enough,but y ou will give me plenty to drink.

"

He stood there mot ionless a few moments,his ey e fixed upon

the cloud- bank,as if mentally taking a sounding of the tempest.

H is gale’

r ienne was in the pocket of his jacket ; he took i t outand placed i t on his head. Then he fetched from the cave

,which

had so long served him for a sleeping- place,a few things which he

had kept there in reserve ; he pu t on his overalls, and at t ired him

self in his water- proof overcoat, like a knigh t who pu ts on his

armour at the moment of bat tle. He had no shoes,but his naked

feet had become hardened to the rocks.This preparat ion forthe storm be ing completed he looked down

upon his breakwater,grasped the knot ted cord hurriedly, descended

from the plateau of the Douvre, stepped on to the rocks below,

and hastened to his store cavern. A few moments later he was at

work. The vast s ilent cloud m igh t have heard the st rokes of his

hammer. Wi th the nails,ropes

,and beams which s t il l remained

,

he constructed for the eastern gullet a second frame,which he suc

ceeded in fixing at ten or twelve feet from the other.The s i lence was s t i l l profound. The blades of grass between thecracks of the rocks were not sti rred.

The sun disappeared suddenly. Gil liatt looked up.

The rising cloud had just reached i t. It was l ike the blot t ing

out of day , succeeded by a m ingled pale reflection.

The immense wal l of cloud had changed i ts appearance. It no

longer retained its uni ty. It had curved on reaching the zen i th,

whence i t spread horizontally over the rest of the heavens. It

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION . 2 19

had now i ts various stages. The tempest format ion was v isible,

l ike the strata in the s ide of a trench. It was possible to distin

guish the layers of the rain from the beds of hai l. There was no

lightning, but a horrible, difl'

used glare ; for the i dea of horror may

be at tached to light. The vague breathing of the storm was audi

ble ; the s i lence was broken by an obscure palpi tation. Gilliatt ,s ilent, also

,watched the giant blocks of vapor grouping them

selves overhead,form ing the shapeless mass of clouds. Upon the

hori zon brooded and lengthened out a band of m ist of ashen hue ;in the zeni th

,another band of lead color. Pale

,ragged fragments

of cloud hung from the great mass above upon the m ist below. The

pile of cloud wh ich formed the background was wan,dull

,gloomy.

A thin, whi t ish, transverse cloud, com ing no one could tel l whither,cut the high dark wal l obliquely from north to south. One of the

extrem i t ies of this cloud trailed along the surface of the sea. At

the point where i t touched the waters a dense red vapor was

v is ible in the m idst of the darkness. Below it,smaller clouds

,

qui te black and very low,were flying as if bewildered or moved

by oppos ite currents of air. The immense cloud behind increased

from all points at once,darkened the eclipse

,and cont inued to

spread i ts somber pall. In the east, behind Gilliat t, there was onlyone clear porch in the heavens

,which was rapidly being closed.

Wi thou t any feel ing of wind abroad, a strange fl ight of gray downy

part icles seemed to pass ; they were fine, and scattered as if some

gigant ic bird had been plucked of i ts plumage behind the bank ofcloud. A dark, compact roof had gradually formed itself, whichon the verge of the horizon touched the sea

,and m ingled in dark

ness wi th i t. The beholder had a vague sense of something

advancing steadi ly towards him. It was vast, heavy, om inous.

Suddenly an immense peal of thunder burst upon the air.

Gill iatt himself felt the shock. The rude real ity in the m idst of

that v is ionary region has something in i t terrific. The listener fan

cies that he hears something fall ing in the chamber of giants. No

electric flash accompanied the report. It was a blind peal. The

s ilence was profound again. There was an interval, as when com

batants take up their pos i tion. Then appeared slowly, one after

the other,great shapeless flashes ; these flashes were s ilent. The

wall of cloud was now a vast cavern, with roofs and arches. Out


l ines of forms were traceable among them ; monstrous heads were

vaguely shadowed forth ; rocks seemed to stretch out ; elephants

bearing turrets,seen for a moment

,vanished. A column of vapor,

straight,round

, and dark, and surmounted by a whi te m ist, s imu

lated the form of a colossal steam - vessel engulfed and hissing and

smoking beneath the waves. Sheets of cloud undulated like foldsof giant flags. In the center

,under a thick purple pal], a nucleus

of dense fog sunk mot ionless,inert

,impenet rable by the electric

fires : a sort of hideous foetus in the bosom of the tempest .

Suddenly Gilliatt felt a breath moving his hai r. Two or three

large drops of rain fel l heavily around him on the rock. Then

there was a second thunder- clap. The wind was ris ing.

The terror of darkness was at i ts highest point. The first peal ofthunder had shaken the sea ; the second rent the wall of cloud from

top to base ; a breach was visible ; the pent - up deluge rushed to

wards i t ; the rent became l ike a gulf fi lled with rain. The out

pouring of the tempest had begun.

The moment was terrible.

Rain,wind

,l igh tnings

,thunder

,waves swirling upwards to the

clouds,foam

,hoarse noises

,whistl ings

,m ingled together

,l ike mon

s’

ters suddenly unloosened.

For a soli tary man,imprisoned with an overloaded bark between

two dangerous rocks in m id- ocean,no cris is could have been m ore

menacing. The danger of the t i de, over which he had triumphed,was nothing compared wi th the danger of the tempest.

II.'rns APPEAL IS HEARD.

S ome hours passed.

The sun rose in an unclouded sky .

I ts first ray shone upon a mot ionless form upon the GreatDouvre . I t was Gilliatt.

He was st il l ou tstretched upon the rock.He was naked

,cold

,and s tifi

‘

,but he did not shiver. His closed

eyelids were wan. It would have been diffi cult for a beholder tosay whether the form before him was a corpse.The sun seemed to look upon him .

If he were not dead,he was already so near death that the

sl igh t cold would have sufficed to extinguish l ife.

222 EXERCISES IN ELOUUTION.

The sloop was there,intact ; the stoppage had held ou t the sea

had probably disturbed i t bu t l i t t le.All was saved.He was no longer weary. His powers had returned. His swoon

had ended in a deep s leep.He descended and baled out the sleep, empt ied the hold, raised

the leakage above the water- l ine,dressed h imself, ate, drank some

water,and was joyful .

The gap in the si de of his vessel, exam ined in broad day light ,proved to require more labor than he had thought . It was a

Serious fracture. The enti re day was too long for i ts repair.

At daybreak on the morrow,after removing the barrier and re

opening the entrance to the defi le,dressed in the tat tered clothing

which had served to stop the leak, having about him Clubin's girdle

and the seventy - five thousand francs, standing erect in the sloop,

now repai red,by the side of the machinery whi ch he had rescued

,

w ith a favorable breeze and a good sea,Gi l l iatt pushed off from the

Douvres.

He put the sleep’

s head for Guernsey.

At the momen t of his departure from the rocks,any one who

had been there m igh t have heard him s inging in an undertone the

air of “ Bonny Dundee. Vi ctor Hugo.

The Singer.

In this world,so wide and lonesome

,

One dear friend have I,

One whose loving presence cheers me

Under every sky :Never care

,nor pain

,nor sorrow

Comes when she is n igh ;Who so blest as I ?

She has ne i ther weal th nor stat ion,

Gems nor precious th ings ;She has only long

,fai r t resses

,

And most glorious wings ;She can neither st rive nor laborWhat of that ? she s ings

,

Wondrously she sings !


Once, as wearily we wanderedOver moo

‘ r and plain,

Up the hi ll and down the valleys,In the sun and rain

,

Sai d I,soft ly

,

“ Let some other

Hear this marvelous st rain,

Else y ou sing in vain.

S ing unt il the deaf ones listen,

S ing and win a name ;

S ing t i l l human hearts,awakened

,

Yield y ou all y ou claim

S ing and make the worldlings wonder,Angel

,sing for Fame !

Pr i thee s ing for Fame l

Then she tried a simple measure,

Faint and quivering ;But her sweet voice failed and trembled,Till

,poor t im i d thing l

All the wise ones sneered and whispered,And she would not sing,No

,she would not sing.

Then I sai d, We two are friendless,Poor and unconsoled ;I am growing sad and hungry,Weary, faint, and cold ;

Since y ou will not sing for Glory,Angel

,sing for Gold,

Pri thee sing for Gold ]

So the throng stood st ill and listenedWi th expectant ears ;

But the sweet—voiced singer faltered,Full of doubts and fears,

And the soul- enchanting music

Failed in sobs and tears,Bitter sobs and tears !

I0*

228

224 Exes arses IN ELOCUTION.

Fairer than a morning blossom,

Gentler than a dove,Purer than the sky when Hesper

Bears his brow above,S ince y ou crave not Gold nor Glory ,Angel

, sing for Love,Prithee sing for Love ]

Then she sang, 0 most divinely !Wi th no pause or fear,

Sang unt il the bes t and proudestLent an eager ear

But the t rue soul of her musicOnly one can hear,One alone can hear l

Dannecker.

I grow old,

”sai d be, looking from his work to the bust of the

late queen,which stood Opposi te.

“ I have carved the efii gies of

three generations of poets, and as many of princes. Twenty years

ago I was at work on the tomb of the Duke ofOldenburg, and nowI am at work upon here who gave me that order. All die away :

soon I shal l be left alone. Of my early'

friends none remain butGoethe. I shall die before him,

and perhaps he will wri te myepi taph. He spoke with a sm i le

,not foreseeing that he would be

the survivor.Three years after

,I again pai d Dannecker a visi t, but a change

had come over him ; his feeble, trembling band could no longer graspthe mallet or guide the chisel ; his eyes were dim ; his fine benevolent countenance wore a childish, vacant smi le

,now and their

crossed by a gleam of awakened memory or though t and y et he

seemed so perfectly happy ! He walked backwards and forwards,

from his Christ to his bust of S chiller,with an unwearied self- com

placency , in which there was something mournful, and y et del ightful. While I sat looking at the magnificent head of Schiller

,the

original of the multifarious casts and copies which are dispersed

through all Germany, he sat down beside me, and tak ing my hands


The Vision of Sir Launfal .

I.

And what is so rare as a day in Jone ?

Then, if ever, come perfect days ;Then Heaven tries the earth if i t be in tune,And over i t soft ly her warm ear lays ;Whether we look, or Whether we l is ten,We hear life murmur, or see i t gl isten,Every clod feels a st i r of m ight,An inst inct wi thin i t that reaches and towers,

And, groping bl indly above i t for ligh t,Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers ;

The flush of l ife may wel l be seenThrilling back over hills and valleys ;

The cowslip startles in meadows green ;The but tercup catches the sun in i ts chal ice,

And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean

To be some happy creature’s palace ;

The l it tle bi rd si ts at his door in the sun,

At ilt l ike a blossom among the leaves,And lets his i llum ined being o’errunWith the deluge of summer it recei ves

,

His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings,

And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings ;He s ings to the wide world, and she to her nes t,In the n ice ear of Nature which song is the best ?

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how ;

Every thing is happy now,

Every thing is upward striving ;’Tis as easy now for the heart to be trueAs for grass to be green or skies to be blue,

'Tis the natural way of living

What wonder if S ir Launfal nowRemembered the keeping of his vow.

My golden spurs now bring to me,

And bring to me my richest mai l,

For to -morrow I go over land and seaIn search of the Holy Grail ;

EXER CIS ES IN E LooUTION .

Shall never a bed for me be spread,Nor shall a pi llow be under my head,Ti ll I begin my vow to keep ;Here on the rushes will I sleep,And perchance there may come a vision trueEre day create the world anew.

”

S lowly S ir Launfal's eyes grew dim,

S lumber fell l ike a cloud on him ,

And into his sou l the v ision fl'

ew.

The crows fiapped over by twos and threes,

In the pool drowsed the catt le up to their knees,The l i ttle birds sang as if i t wereThe one day of summer in all the year

,

And the very leaves seemed to s ing on the trees;The castle alone in the landscape layLike an outpost of winter

,dull and gray ;

’Twas the proudest hall in the North Countree,

And never i ts gates m ight opened be,

S ave to lord or lady of high degree ;S ummer bes ieged i t on every side

,

But the churl ish stone her assaults defied ;She could not scale the chilly wall,Though round i t for leagues her pavi lions tallS tretched left and right,Over the hi lls and out of sight ;Green and broad was every tent,And out of each a murmur wentTi ll the breeze fell off at night.

The drawbridge dropped wi th a surly clang,

And through the dark arch a charger sprang,Bearing S ir Launfal, the maiden knight,In his gilded mail

,that flamed so bright

It seemed the dark castle had gathered allThose shafts the fierce sun had shot over i ts wallIn his siege of three hundred summers long,

And, bindi ng them all in one blazing sheaf;Had cast them forth : so, young and strong,

And l ightsome as a locust - leaf,S ir Launfal flashed forth in his unscarred mail,To seek in all climes for the Holy Grail.

227

228 E I ERCISE S IN E LocUTION.

As S irLaunfal made morn through the darksome gate,He was ’ware of a leper, crouched by the same,Who begged wi th his hand and moaned as he sate ;And a loathing over S ir Launfal came ;

The sunshine went out of his soul wi th a thri ll,The flesh '

neath his armour '

gan shrink and crawl,And m idway i ts leap his heart stood sti l l

Like a frozen waterfall ;For this man

,so foul and bent of stature,

Rasped harshly against his dainty nature,And seemed the one blot on the summer morn

,

So be tossed him a piece of gold in scorn.

The leper raised not the gold from the dustBetter to me the poor man

’

s crust,

Better the blessing of the poor,

Though I turn me empty from his door ;That is no true aims which the hand can hold ;He gives nothing but worthless goldWho gives from a sense of duty

But he who gives a slender m i te,

And gives to that which is out of sight,

That thread of the all - sus taining Beau ty

Which runs through all and doth all uni te,

The hand cannot clasp the whole of hi s alms,The heart outstretches i ts eager palms,For a god goes with i t and makes i t storeTo the soul that was starving in darkness before.

"

II.

Wi thin the hall are song and laughter,

The cheeks of Christmas glow red and jolly ,And sprouting in every corbel and rafterWith l ightsome green of ivy and hol ly .

But the wind withou t was eager and sharp,

Of S ir Launfal's gray hai r i t makes a harp,

And rattles and wringsThe icy strings

,


And to thy life were not deniedThe wounds in the hands and feet and si de

Mild Mary’s Son, acknowledge me ;Behold

,through him I give to thee !

Then the soul of the leper stood up in his eyesAnd looked at S ir Launfal, and st raightway he

Remembered in what a haugh t ier guise

He had flung an alms to leprosie,When he gi rt his young l ife up in gilded mailAnd set forth in search of the Holy Grail.The - heart wi thin him was ashes and dust ;He parted in twain his s ingle crus t,He broke the ice on the s t ream let’s brink,And gave the leper to eat and drink,'Twas a mouldy crust of co arse brown bread,

’Twas water out of a wooden bowl,Yet wi th fine Wheaten bread was the leper fed,And was red wine he drank wi th his thirsty soul.

As S ir Launfal mused with a downcast face,A light shone round abou t the place ;The leper no longer crouched at his side,But stood before him glorified,Shining and tall and fai r and straight

As the pillar that stood by the Beautiful Gate,

Himself the Gate whereby men can

Enter the temple of God in Man.

His words were shed softer than leaves from the pine,

And they fell on S ir Launfal as snows on the brine,

Which m ingle thei r softness and quiet in one

With the shaggy unrest they float down upon ;And the voice that was calmer than s ilence said,“ Lo it is I, be not afrai d !In many climes

,withou t avail

,

Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grai lBehold it is here

,this cup which thou

Didst fill at the stream let for me but now ;This crust is my body broken for thee,

d isciples .

EXER CIS ES IN ELOC’UTION.

This water his blood that died on the tree ;The Holy Supper is kept

,indeed

,

In whatso we share wi th another's need

No t what we g ive, but what we share,

For the gift wi thou t the giver is bare ;Who gives himself wi th his alms feeds three,Himself

,his hungering neighbor

,and me.

"

S ir Launfal awoke as from a swound“ The Grai l in my castle here is found !Hang my idle armor up on the wall

,

Let i t be the Spider’s banquet hal l

He must be fenced wi th stronger mai l

Who wou ld seek and find the Holy Grai l.

The castle gate stands Open now,

And the wanderer is welcome to the hallAs the hangbi rd is to the elm- t ree bough ;No longer scowl the turrets tall

,

The S ummer’s long s iege at last is O'er ;When the first poor ou tcast went in at the doorShe entered wi th him in disguise

,

And mastered the fortress by surprise ;There is no spot she loves so well on ground

,

She l ingers and sm i les there the whole year roundThe meanest serf on S ir Launfal ’s landHas hall and bower at his command ;And there is no poor man in the North Countree

But is lord of the earldom as much as be.

23 1

NOTE —Accord ing to the my thology of the Romancers . the San Gres l , or

Holy Gra il , was the cup out of which Jesus partook of the last supper with h i sIt was brought i nto Eng land by Joseph of Arimathea, and remained

there , an Object of p ilgrimage and adorat ion, for many y ears in the keep ing ofhi s l ineal descendants. It was incumbent upon those who had charge of i t tobe chas te in thought , word , and deed ; but one of the keepers hav ing brokenth is condi t ion , the Holy Grail d isappeared . From that t ime i t was a favori teenterpri se of the knights of Arthur’s court to go in search of i t.

James R. Lowell.


Pan.

I.

What was he do ing,the great god Pan,

Down in the reeds by the river ?

Spreading ruin and scat tering ban,Splashing and paddl ing wi th hoofs of a goat,And breaking the golden lil ies afloat

Wi th the dragon- fly on the river.

II.He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,From the deep cool bed of the ri ver

The limpid water turbidly ran,

And the broken l il ies a- dying lay ,And the dragon- fly had fled away

,

Ere he brought i t out of the river.

III.

High on the shore sate the great god Pan,While turbidly flowed the river ;

And hacked and hewed as a great god can,

With his hard bleak steel at the pat ient reed,Till there was not a s ign of a leaf indeed

To prove i t fresh from the ri ver.

He cut i t short,did the great god Pan,

(How ta ll i t stood in the river !)Then drew the pi th

,l ike the heart of a

S teadily from the outs ide ring,

And notched the poor dry emp ty thing

In holes,as he sate by the river.

V.

“ This is the way , laughed the great god Pan,(Laughed while he sate by the river,)

“ The only way , s ince gods began

To make sweet mus ic,they could succeed.

Then,dropping his mou th to a hole in the reed

,

He blew in power by the river.


Branches,bid your guests be silent ;

Hush a moment , fretful rain ;Breeze

,stop s ighing— let me listen,

God grant not again in vain !

In my cheek the blood is rosy,Like the blushes of a. bride.

Joy l alas ! a stranger foots tepGoes on by the other side.

Ah ! how many wait forever

For the steps that do not come !Wait unt il the pi tying angelsBear them to a peaceful home lMany in the st il l of m i dnigh t

In the streets have lain and died,While the sound of human footsteps

Went by on the other side.

Death of Lit t le Nell .From The Old Cur iosi ty Shop .

By li ttle and li t tle,the old man drew back towards the inner

chamber, while these words were spoken. He pointed there,as he

replied,with trembling l ips,

You plot among y ou to wean my heart from her. You willnever do that—never while I have life. I have no relative or

friend but her - I never had - I never wi ll have. She is all in all

to me. I t is too late to part us now.

"

Waving them off wi th his hand,and calling softly to her as he

went,he stole into the room . They who were left beh ind drew

close together, and after a few whispered words,

- not unbrokenby emot ion

,or easi ly uttered— followed him. They moved so

gently, that thei r foots teps made no noise,but there were sobs

from among the group, and sounds of grief and mourning.For she was dead. There, upon her l i ttle bed, she lay at res t.

The solemn s t illness was no marvel now.

She was dead. N o sleep so beaut iful and calm, so free from trace

of pain, so fair to look upon. She seemed'

a creature fresh fromthe hand of God, and wai t ing for the breath of life ; not one whohad lived and suffered death.


Her couch was dressed wi th,here and there

,some winter berries

and green leaves,gathered in a spot she had been used to favor.

When I die, put near me something that has loved the light

,and

had the sky above i t always." These were her words.She was dead. Dear

,gent le

,pat ient

,noble Nell was dead. Her

l ittle bird—a poor sl igh t thing the pressure of a finger would havecrushed—was st irring nimbly in i ts cage ; and the strong heart of

i ts child -mistress was mute and mot ionless forever.

Where were the t races of her early cares, her sufferings and

fatigues ? All gone. This was the t rue death before the i r weeping

i y es. Sorrow was dead indeed in her,bu t peace and perfect hap

piness were bornf imaged in her tranqu il beau ty and profound

repose.

And st ill her former self lay there,unal tered in this change.

Yes? The old fires ide had sm iled on that same sweet face ; i t had

passed l ike a dream through haunts of m isery and care’

; at the

door of the poor schoolmaster on evening, before the

furnace fire upon the cold,wet nigh the st ill

,dying boy , there

had been the same mi ld,lovely look. shall we know the angels

in thei r maj death.

guid arm in his,and kept the small hand

t ight folded to his breas t,for warm th. I t was the hand she had

stretched out to him with her las t sm ile —the hand that had led

him on through all the ir wanderings. Ever and anon he passed i t

to his l ips ; then hugged i t to his breast again, murmuring that i t

was warmer now ; and as he said i t , he looked, in aggg y , to those

who stood around, as if imploring them to help her.

She was dead and past all help, or ng zd of i t. The ancient rooms

she had seemed to fill wi th l ife,even while her own was ebbin

}fas t

- the guden she had tended -‘t—the eyes she had gladdened—the

noiseless haunts of many a thoughtless hour/ the paths she had

trodden as if it were but y esterday i could know her no more.

It is not,

"said the schoolmaster

,as be bent down to kiss her

on her cheek, and give his tears free vent“ i t is not in th is world

that Heaven’s jus tice egds. Think what it is compared wi th theworld to which her young spi rit has winged i ts early fl igh t

,and

say , i f one del iberate wish expressed in solemn terms above this

bed could cal l her back to l ife, which of us would ut ter i t !Dickens.


Auction Extraordinary .

I dreamed a dream in the m idst of my slumbers,And as fast as I dreamed i t, i t came into numbers ;My thoughts ran along in such beau t iful meter,I’m sure I ne'er saw any poe try sweeter

I t seemed that a law had been recent ly made,That a tax on old bachelors’ pates should be laid ;And in order to make them all wil l ing to marry,The tax was as

‘large as a man could well carry,

The bachelors grumbled and sai d 'twas no use

'Twas horrid injust i ce and ho rrid abuse,And declared that to save the ir own heart's blood from spilling,Of such a vi le tax they would not pay a shill ing.But the rulers determ ined them st il l to pursue,So they set al l the old bachelors up at vendue :A crier was sent through the town to and fro

,

To rat tle his bell and a t rumpet to blow,

And to call out to all he m igh t meet in his way ,

H0 ! forty old bachelors sold here to day :And presently all the old maids in the town,Each in her very best bonnet and gown,From thirty to sixty

,fai r

,plain

,red

,and pale

,

Of every descrip tion, all flocked to the sale.The auctioneer t hen in his labor began

,

And called out aloud,as he held up a man

, 4“ How much for a

'

bachelor who wants to buy ?In a twink

,every maiden responded

, I I."

In short,at a h ighly ext ravagant price,

The bachelors al l were sold off in a triceAnd forty old mai dens

,some younger

,some older,

Each lagged an old bachelor home on her shoulder.Lucretia Davidson.

The Coquette.A PORTRAIT.

“ You’re clever at drawing,I own

,

Said my beaut iful cousin Lisette,As we sat by the window alone

,

“ But say , can y ou paint a Coquette ?


Wi ll theNewYear ComeTo-night ,Mam a7

Will the New Year come to - night,mamma ? I

’

m t i red of wait

ing so,

My stocking hung by the chimney side full three long days ago.

I run to peep within the door,by morning’s early light ,

’Tis empty st i ll Oh

,say , mamma

,will the New Year come

to- nigh t 7

Wi ll the New Year come to-night , mamma ? the snow is on the hill,The ice must be two inches thick upon the meadow rill.I heard y ou tel l papa last night , his son must have a sled

(I did n’t mean to hear

,mamma) , and a pai r of skates y ou said.

I prayed for just those things, mamma, O, I shall be ful l of glee,And the orphan boys in the village school will all be envying me ;

But I’ll give them toys,and lend them books

,and make thei r New

Year glad,

For God, y ou say , takes back his gifts when l i ttle folks are bad.

And won’t y ou let me go, m amma,upon the New Year’s day ,

And carry something ni ce and warm to poor old widow Gray ?I’ll leave the basket near the door, wi thin the garden gate,Will the N ew Year come to- night, mamma ? i t seems so long to

wait.

The New Year comes to - nigh t,mamma

,I saw i t in my sleep

,

My stocking hung so full,I thought—mamma

,what makes y ou

weep

But it only held a l itt le shroud a shroud and nothing more

An open cofii n open for me—was standing on the floor.

It seemed so very st range, indeed, to find such gifts instead

Of all the toys I wished so much,the story- book and sled

But while I wondered what i t meant, y ou came wi th tearful joyAnd said

,Thou'l t find the New Year first ; God cal leth thee my

boy !”

It is not all a dream ,mamma

,I know

,i t mus t be true ;

But have I been so bad a boy God taketh me from y ou 7

I don’t know what papa will do when I am lai d to rest,

And y ou will have no Willie’

s head to fold upon your breast.

EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION. 239

The New Year comes to- night,mamma

,-

y our cold hand on mycheek

,

And raise my head a li ttle more i t seems so hard to speak ;You need not fi ll my stocking now

,I cannot go and peep

,

Before to -morrow’

s sun is up,I’ll be so sound as leep.

I shall not want the skates,mamma

,I'

ll never need the sled ;But won’t y ou give them both to Blake, who hurt me onmy head ?He used to hide my books away, and tear the pictures too ,But now he ’ll know that I forgive, as then I tried to do.

And,if you please, mamma

,I'd l ike the story - book and slate,

To go to Frank, the drunkard’

s boy , y ou would not let me hate ;And

,dear mamma

, y ou won'

t forget,upon the New Year day ,

The basket full of something nice for poor old wi dow Gray.

The New Year comes to—night,mamma

,it seems so very soon

,

I th ink God did n’

t hear me ask for just ano ther June ;I know I’ve been a thoughtless boy , and made y ou too much care,And may be for your sake, mamma

,He does n't hear my prayer.

I t cannot be ; but y ou wil l keep the summer flowers green,

And plant a few don'

t cry,mamma a very few I mean

,

When I’m asleep,I’d sleep so swee t beneath the apple tree,

Where y ou and robin, in the morn, may come and s ing to me.

The New Year comes—good- night,mamma “ I lay me down to

sleepI pray the Lord tell poor papa my soul to keep ;If I —how cold i t seems - how dark—kiss me

,I cannot see

The New Year comes to - night, mamma, the old yeah—dies with me.Cora M E l gar.

Marion Moore.

Gone,art thou

,Marion

,Marion Moore,

Gone,like the bird in the autumn that singeth

Gone, like the flower by the way - s i de that springeth ;Gone

,l ike the leaf of the ivy that clingeth

Round the lone rock on the storm - beaten shore.

1 1

240 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTIOM

Dear wert thou,Marion

,Marion Moore,

Dear as the tide in my broken heart throbbing ;Dear as the soul o’er thy memory sobbing ;Sorrow my li fe of i ts roses is robbing :

Wasting is all the glad beauty of yore.

I will remember thee, Marion Moore ;I shal l remember, alas ! to regret thee !I will regret when all others forget thee ;Deep in my breast wi ll the hour that I met thee

Linger and burn ti ll life’s fever is o’er.

Gone, art thou, Marion, Marion Moore !Gone

,l ike the breeze o’er the billow that bloweth ;

Gone,l ike the ri ll to the ocean that floweth

Gone,as the day from the gray mountain goeth,

Darkness behind thee,but glory before.

Peace to thee,Marion

,Marion Moore

,

Peace which the queens of the earth cannot borrow ;Peace from a kingdom that crowned thee with sorrow ;0 ! to be happy wi th thee on the morrow

,

Who would not fly from this desolate shore.

James 0. mark»

TheWell of St.Kayne.

There i s awel l in Cornwal l , the water of which posses ses rare vi rtues.If the husband d ri nk s fi rs t after th e marr iage, h e gets the mas tery for

d i e, and viceversa.

A well there is in the west country ,And a clearer one never was seen ;There's not a wife in the west countryBut has heard of the well of S t. Kay ne.

A traveler came to the well of S t. Keyne ;Joyfully he drew h igh,

For from cock- crow he had been traveling,And there was not a cloud in the sky .

242 EXERCISES IN EL e 'H ON.

You drank of the -wel l,I warrant , bet imes i

He to the Cornish -man said ;

But the Corni sh -man smi led as the st ranger spoke,And

‘

sheepishly shook hi s head

“ I hasten’d as soon as the wedd ing was done,And left my wi fe in the porch ;

But , i’ fai th

,she had been wi ser than me

,

For she took a bott le to church .

”

Robert Southey , 1793.

Thank God ! there's still 8.Vanguard.

Thank God i there’s sti l l a vanguardF ight ing for the right !

Though the throng flock to rearward,Li ft ing

,ashen whi te,

Flags of t ruce to sin and error,

C lasping hands, m u te wi th terror,Thank God ] there’s st i l l a vanguardFighting for the ri ght .

Through the wi lderness advancing,Hewers of the way ;

Forward far thei r spears are glancing,Flashing back the day

“ Back 1” the leaders cry , who fear them ;Back 1” from al l the army near themThey , wi th steady t read advancing

,

C leave thei r certain way .

S lay them—from each d rop that fall ethSprings a hero armed

Where the martyr’s fire appal leth ,Lo 1 they pass unharmed

Crushed beneath thy wheel , Opp ression,How thei r spiri ts ho ld possession,How the d ross-purged voi ce out - cal leth ,By the death- throes warmed l

EXERCISES [N ELOC l/TION. 2

Thank God ! there’s sti l l a vanguardFight ing for the right !

Error’s legions know thei r standard,Floating in the li ght ;When the league of sin rejoi ces,Qui ck out ring the rallying voi ces.Thank God i there’s sti l l a vanguardF ighting for the ri gh t i

Mrs. H. E. 0. An y .

Through Death to Life.

Have y ou heard the tale of the Aloe p lant,Away in the sunny cl imn?By humble growth of a hundred y ears

It'

reaches i ts blooming time ;And then a wondrous bud at i ts crownBreaks into a thousand flowers ;

Thi s floral queen, in i ts blooming seen,Is the pride of the trop ical bowers .

But the p lant to the flower i s a sacrifice,

For i t blooms but once,and in blooming di es.

Have y ou further heard of thi s Aloe p lant

That g rows in the sunny clime,How every one of i ts thousand flowers

,

As they d rop in the bloom ing time,

Is an infant p lant that fastens i ts roots

In the p lace where i t fal ls on the ground ;And

,fast as they d rop from the dying stem

,

Grow lively and lovely around ?By dying i t li veth a thousand -fold

In the young that spri ng from the death of the

Have y ou heard the tale of the Peli can,The Arab’s Gimel el Bah r,

That li ves in the Afri can soli t udes,Wh ere the bi rds that li ve lonely are i

48

944 EXERCISES IN Ergoaar'rorv.

Have y ou heard how i t loves i ts tender young,And cares and toi ls for their good ?

It brings them water from fountains afar,And fishes the seas for their food.

In famine i t feeds them—what love can devi seThe blood of i ts bosom

,and feeding them dies.

Have y ou heard the tale they tel l of the swan,The snow-whi te bird of the lake i

It noisel essly floats on the sil very wave,It si lently si ts in the brake ;

For i t saves i t s song t ill the end of li fe,

And then,in the soft

,st i l l even,

’Mi d the golden li ght of the setting sun,It sings as i t soars into heaven !

And the blessed notes fall back from the ski es’Ti s i ts only song, for in singing i t di es.

You have heard these tales ; shal l I tel l y ou one

A greater and better than al l 2

Have y ou heard of Him whom the heavens adore,Before whom the hosts of them fal l 7

How He left the choi rs and anthems above,

For earth in i ts wai lings and woes,To sufi

'

er the shame and pain of the cross,And di e for the l i fe of His fees ?

0 prince of the noble Osufferer di vineWhat sorrow and sacrifi ce equal to Thine

The following little poem Is full of genuine feel ing as well as of poetic beauty . You

can almost see the wee thing as she follows her grandfather over the fields, cheeringhis loneliness wi th the musi c of her chi ldish prat tle, or at night toy ingwith his whi telocks and keeking " through his spectacles.

The spring time had come ; we were sowing the corn

WhenMi nni e—wee Minni e—my Minni e was born ;She came when the sweet blossoms burst for the bee,An‘ 9. sweet bud of beauty was Minni e to me.

246 Exes arses rN EL oaUrroN.

My Darling’s Shoes.

God bless the li ttle feet that can never go as tray,For the l i tt le shoes are

'

empty in the closet laid away ;Somet imes I take one in my hand, forget t ing t il l I see,It is a l i tt le half—worn shoe not large enough for me ;

And all at once I feel a sense of bi t ter loss and pain,As sharp as when

,two years ago, i t cut my heart in twain.

0 l i t tle feet,that wearied not

,I wait for . them no mere

,

For I am drifting on the tide,but they have reached the shore ;

And whi le the blinding tear- drOps wet these l it tle shoes so old,

They walk unsandalled in the s treets that pearly gates enfold ;And so I lay them down again

,but always turn to say ,

“ God bless the l i tt le feet that now surely cannot stray .

And while I am thus standing,I almost seem to see

Two l i ttle forms beside me,just as they used to be

,

Two l i t tle faces l ifted, wi th their sweet and tender eyes,Ah

,me ! I m igh t have known that look was born of Paradise.

I reach my arms out fondly,but they clasp the empty air ;

There '

s nothing of my darlings but the shoes they used to wear.

Oh ! the bi tterness of parti ng can ne'er be done away

Till I see my darlings walking where thei r feet can never st ray.

When I no more am drift ing upon the surging t ide,But wi th them safely landed upon the ri ver s ide ;

Be pat ient, heart, while wai t ing to see the i r shining way ,For the li t t le feet, in the golden street

,can never go as tray. ‘

UnwrittenMusic.

There is unwri tten music. The world is"

full of i t. . I hear'

i t

every hour that I wake ; and my waking sense is surpassed somet imes by my sleeping

,though that is a mystery. There is no sound

of s imple nature that is not musi c. It is all God's work,and so

harmony. You may m ingle, and divide, and st rengthen the passages of i ts great anthem ; and i t is s t ill melody,—

'melody.

The low winds of summer blow over the waterfalls and the

brooks,and bring thei r voices to your ear, as if thei r sweetness

were l inked by an accurate finger ; y et the wind is but a fi tful


player ; and y ou may go out when the tempest is up,and hear the

strong trees moaning as they lean before it,and the long grass hiss

ing as i t sweeps through,and i ts own solemn monotony over all ;

and the dimple of that same brook,and the waterfall's unaltered

bass shall st il l reach y ou, in the intervals of i ts power, as much inharmony as before, and as much a part of i ts perfect and perpetualhymn.

There is no accident of nature’s causing wh ich can bring indiscord. The loosened rock may fall into the abyss, and the over

blown t ree rush down through the branches of the wood,and the

thunder peal awfully in the sky ; and sudden and violent as thesechanges seem

,thei r tumult goes up wi th the sound of wind and

waters, and the exquisi te ear of the mus ic ian can detect no jar.I have read somewhere of a cus tom in the Highlands

,which

,in

connection wi th the principle i t involves,is exceedingly beau t iful.

It is believed that,to the ear of the dying (which, just before death

becomes always exquis i tely acute) , the perfect harmony of the

vo ices of nature is so ravishing,as to make him forget his suff ering

,

and die gently,like one in a pleasant trance. And so

,when the

last moment approaches,they take him from the close shiel ing

,and

hear him ou t into the open sky , that he may hear the fam i l iar rushing of the streams. I can bel ieve that i t is not supers t i tion. I donot th ink we know how exquisitely nature's many voices are

attuned to harmony,and t o each o ther.

The old philosopher we read of m ight not have been dream ingwhen he discovered that the order of the sky was l ike a scrol l ofwri tten mus ic

,and that two stars (which are said to have appeared

centuries after his death,in the very places he ment ioned) were

want ing to complete the harmony. We know how wonderful arethe phenomena of color ; how strangely like consummate art the

s tronges t dyes are blended in the plumage of birds, \and in the cups

of flowers ; so that, to the pract iced ey e of the painter,the harmony

is inim itably perfect. It is natural to suppose every part of the

universe equally perfect ; and i t is a glorious and elevat ing though t ,that the stars of heaven arem oving on cont inually to mus ic

,and

that the sounds we dai ly listen to are but part of a melody that

reaches to the very center of God's i l limi table spheres.

248 EXER CISES IN ELOC UTION.

TheWreck of the Hesperus.

It was the schooner Hesperus,That sailed the wintry sea ;

And the skipper had taken his l i ttle daugh terTo hear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax ,Her cheeks l ike the dawn of day

Her bosom whi te as the hawthorn buds,

That ope in the month of May .

The skipper he stood bes ide the helmHis pipe was in his mou th

,

And he watched how the veering How did blowThe smoke

,now west

,now sou th.

Then up and spake an old sailor,

Had sai led the Spanish main ;“ I pray thee put into yonder portFor I fear the hurricane.

"

Last night the moon had a golden ring, ,

And to-night no moon we see."

But the skipper he blew a whiff from his pipe,

And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind

A gale from the northeast,

The snow fell h iss ing in the brine,

And the billows frothed l ike yeast.

Down came the storm and smote amain

The vessel in i ts st rength ;She shuddered and paused l ike a frigh tened steed

,

Then leaped her Cable’s length.

Come hi ther l come hi ther ; my li ttle daugh terAnd do not t remble so ;

For I can weather the roughest galeThat ever wind did blow.

”

E XERCISE S IN EL ocUTION.

She struck where the whi te and decoy waves

Looked soft as carded wool,But the cruel rock

‘

s,they gored her s ides

Like the horns of an angry bull.

Her ratt l ing shrouds,all sheathed in ice,

Wi th the masts went by the board ;Like a vessel of glass, she stove- and sank,Ho ! Ho l the breakers roared.

At daybreak on a bleak sea beach

,

A fisherm an stood aghast,

To see the form of a maiden fai r

Lashed close to a drift ing mast.

The sal t sea was frozen on her breas t

The salt tears in her eyes ;And he saw

'

her hai r like the brown sea weed

On the billows fall and rise.

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,

In the m idnight and the snow ;Chris t save us all from a death like th is

,

On the reef of N orman’

s Woe.

Longfellow.

God. mi ? »

The fo l low ing poem i s a t ran s lat i on from the Russ i an . It has beent ransla ted in to Japanese. by order of t h e em pero r, a n d i s hung up , embro id ered wi t h go ld , i n t he tem p le o f Jed d o . I t h as a lso been t ran s la tedi n to t he Ch inese and Tartar languages , w ri t ten on a p i ece of r i ch s i lk ,and su spended i n the im peri al pa lace at Pek i n .

0 Taco eternal One l whose presence brigh tAll space doth occupy

,all mo t ion guide ;

Unchanged through t ime’

s all - devastat ing fl ight ;Thou only God ! There is no God bes ide !Being above all. beings ! Three - in-One l

Whom none can comprehend,and none explore ;

Who hll’s t existence wi th 7713/3e alone ;Embracing al l—support ing—rul ing o’erBeing whom we call God—and know no more !

E rancases IN E LOCUTION.

Ini ts sublime research,ph ilosophy

May measure out the ocean deep—may countThe sands or the sun’

s rays but God ! for TheeThere is no weight nor measure —none can mount

Up to . Thy mysteries. Reason'

s brightest spark,Though kindled by Thy ligh t

,in vain would try

To trace Thy counsels, infini te and dark ;And though t is los t ere though t can soar so high

E’

en l ike past moments in eterni ty.

Thou from primeval no thingness didst call,

First chaos,then existence ;—Lord l on Thee

E terni ty had its foundat ion — all

Sprung forth from Thee ;—of l igh t, joy , harmony,

Sole origin - all life,al l beauty

,Thine.

Thy word created all,and doth create ;

Thy splendor fills all space wi th ray s divine ;Thou art

,and wert

,and shal t be ! Glorious

,

Ligh t - giving,l ife- susta ining Po tentate l

Thy chains the unmeasured un iverse surround ;Upheld

.

by Thee, by Thee inspi red wi th breath !Thou the beginning with the end has t bound

,

And beaut ifully m ingled life and death !As sparks mount upward from the fiery blaze

,

So suns are born,so worlds Spring forth from Thee ;

And as the spangles in the sunny rays

Shine around the s i lver snow,the pageantry

Of heaven’s brigh t army gl i tters in Thy praise.

A m i llion torches l ighted by Thy handWander unwearied through the blue abyss ;They own Thy power, accompl ish Thy command,All gay wi th life, all eloquent wi th bl iss.What shall we call them ? Pyres of crystal l igh tA glorious company of golden streams

Lamps of celest ial ether burning brightSuns l ight ing systems wi th thei r joy ful beams ?B ut Thou to these art as the noon to night .Yes ! as a d rop of water in the sea,All this magnificence in Thee is los t ;What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee ?

25 1


And what am I then ? Heaven’s unnumbered host,Though mult iplied by myriads, and arrayedIn all the glory of subl imes t thought,Is but an atom in the balance weighedAgainst Thy greatness, is a cipher brough tAgainst infini ty ! What am I then ? N aught !Naugh t ! But the efiluence of Thy l igh t divine,Pervading worlds

,hath reached my bosom too ;

Yes, in my Spiri t doth Thy spiri t shine,

As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew.

Naught ! but I li ve,and on hope’s pinions fly

Eager toward Thy presence ; for in TheeI l ive

,and breathe

,and dwell ; aspi ring high

Even to the throne of Thy d ivini ty.I am

, 0 God l and surely Thou must be !Thou art i directing

,guiding all

,Thou art i

Di rect my understanding then to Thee ;Control my spiri t

,guide my wandering heart ;

Though but an atom m ids t immens i ty,

S ti ll I am something,fashioned by Thy hand !

I hold a m iddle rank ’

twixt heaven and earth,

On the last verge of mortal being stand,

Close to the realm where angels have their birth,

Just on the boundaries of the spirit land !The chain of be ing is complete in m e ;

In me is matter’s last gradation lost,And the next step is spiri t—De i ty !I can command the l ightning and -

am dust !A monarch, and a slave ; a worm ,

a god !

Whence came I here,and how ? so marvellously

Constructed and concei ved unknown ! this clodLives surely through some higher energy ;For from i tself alone i t could not be !Creator, y es ! Thy wisdom and Thy wordCreated me ! Thou source of li fe and good !Thou Spirit of my spiri t

,and my Lord

Thy light,Thy love

,in the bright plehi tude

Fi lled me wi th an immortal soul,to Spring

Over the abyss of death,and bade i t wear

254 .EXE’RCIS ES IN ELOCUTION .

In a chamber,from a pri vate drawer, she takes a li ttle casket , and

from thence a book,gilt - edged and clasped ; but the clasp is worn,

the gilding is old,the binding is faded by long use. Her hands

t remble as she opens i t. First she reads her own name on the fly

leaf; only her Christ ian name, Agnes,"and the date. S ixty - e ight

years ago this day i t was wri t ten there,in a clear

,youthful, clerkly

hand— W i th a li t tle tremble i n i t,as if the heart beat over it quick.

I t is a very wel l worn,dear old B ible. It opens of i ts own accord

at the fourteen th chap ter of John. There is a l it tle folded piece of

paper there ; i t touches the first verse and the twenty- seventh .

S he sees ne i ther ; she reads bo th out of her soul ;“ Let not your

heart be t roubled ; y e bel ieve in God ; bel ieve also inme.

“ PeaceI leave wi th y ou. My peace give I unto y ou. Not as the worldgiveth give I unto y ou.

"

She Opens the paper. There is a l i t t lebrown dust in i t

'

; perhaps the remnant of a flower. She'

takes the

precious rel ic in her hand,made cold by emot ion. She drops a

tear on i t,and the dust is transfigured befo re her eyes ; i t is a red

rose of the spring, not qui te half blown, dewy fresh. She is old

no longer. I t is not Aunt Kindly now ; i t is sweet Agnes,as the

mai den of eighteen was eigh t- and- s ix ty years ago, one day in May ,

when all nature was woosome and winning,and every flower- bel l

rung in the marriage of the year. Her' lover had just put that redrose of the Spring into her hand, and the good God another in hercheek

,not qui te half- blown

,dewy fresh. The young man

’

s arm is

round her ; her brown curls fall on his shoulder ; she feels hisbreath on her face

,his check on hers ; thei r l ips jo in, and, l ike two

morning dew- drops in that rose,the i r two loves rush into one.

But the you th must wander to a far land. They will think of each

o ther'

as they look at the N orth S tar. She bids h im take her Bible.

He saw the No rth S tar hang over the turrets of many a foreigntown. .

His soul went to God— there is as s traigh t a road fromIndia as from any o ther Spot— and his Bible came back to herthe divine love in i t, withou t the human lover ; the leaf turneddown at the blessed words of John

,first and twenty- seventh of the

fourteenth chapter. She put the rose there to note the spot ; whatmarks the thought holds now the symbol of the i r youthful love.

Now to- day her soul is wi th him,her mai den sou l wi th his angel

soul ; and one day the two , l ike two dew- drops,w il l rush into one

immortal wedlock,and the old age of earth shall become eternal

you th in the Kingdom of Heaven.


The Great Bell Roland.Toll ! Roland, toll l

In old S t. Bavon'sy werAt midnigh t hThe great 'he] Ro

l

land spokez/And all that

'

“

slept i n hent lawoke

What meantéhe thunderjs trokefl'

Why an maid ?Why

l

caughtg ch man his blade ?\

Whylechoed every street

?

) Wi th tramp of thronging feet

And evenWheneverAnd everyAnd every

So acted men

Li ke patri ots then

Three hundred years

Tol l ! Roland,toll l

Bell never y et was hung,

Between whose l ips there swung80

"

grand a tongue !

If men be pat riots st ill,At thy first soundTrue hearts will bound,Great so

_uls will thril l !

Then toll ! and let thy test

Try each man'

s breast,And let him stand confest .

To ll ! Roland,toll !

Not now in old S t ,Bavon’s tower ;

Not now at mi dnight hour ;Nut now from river Scheldt to Zuy der Zce,But here,—this side the sea lToll here, in broad, bright day l


For not by nigh t awai tsA noble foe without thegates.

But perjured friends within bet ray ,And do the deed at noon !Toll ! Roland

,toll !

Thy sound is not too soon !

Arms ! Ring out the Leader’s call !Re- echo i t from East to West,

T i ll every hero's breastShall swell beneath a sold ier's crest !Toll ! Roland

,toll !

Ti ll cottager from cottage-wall

Snatch pouch and powder-horn and gun

The heri tage of si re to son

Ere half of Freedom’s work was done !

Toll ! Roland, toll !Till swords from scabbards leap !Toll ! Roland

,toll l

What tears can widows weepLess bitter than when brave men fall !Toll ! Roland

,

In shadowed hut and hallShall lie the soldier’s pall

,

And hearts shal l break while graves are fi lled !Amen ! So God hath wi lled !

And may His grace ano int us all !

Toll ! Roland,tell !

The Dragon on thy towerS tands sentry to this hour,

And Freedom now is safe in Ghent !And merrier bells now ring

,

And in the land's serene content ,Men shout God save the King !

Unt il the skies are rent !S o let i t be !

A kingly king is heWho keeps his people free !

Roland ,Ring out across the sea !


To pull a bough or berry by the way ;

And when y ou come to cross the ford, hold fast

Your l it tle s ister’s hand t ill you're quite past ;That plank is so crazy

,and so sl ippery

,

If not overflowed the stepping stoneswill be

But you're good children— steady as old folk,I'd trust y e anywhere." Then Lizzie’s cloak

(A good gray dufi fa) lovingly she t ied,And amply li t tle ! fami ly

'

s lack suppl iedWith her own warmest shawl. “ Be sure

,sai d she,

To wrap i t round,and knot i t carefully

,

(Like this) when y ou come home just leaving free

One hand to hold by. N ow,make has te away

Good will to school and then good right to plat/

55"

/The mother watches them wi th forebodihg,‘though she knows

not why. In a l it tle while the threatened storm se ts in. N igh t

come}. and with i t com?the father from his daily to il There's a

treasufe hidden in his hatA play thing for his young ones

,he has found

A dormouse nest ; the l ivingball coi l’d round

For i ts long winter sleep ; all his thoughtAs he t rudged stoutly homewardwas of naughtBut the glfi wondern

’

fent in Jenny’s eyes},And graver Lizzie's quieter surprise,When he should yield, by guessand kiss and prayer,Hard wohfthe frozen cap tive to thei r care.

I

No l i ttle faces greet him as wont at the threshold ; and to his

hurried quest ion

Are they come ? — t'was no

,

To throw his tools down,hast i ly unhook

The old crack'

d lantern from its dusty nookAnd hile he lit

\i t,speak a cheering wofi

'l‘hat almost choked him

,and was scarcely heard

,

Was but a moment’sy

t,and he w

asgone

To where a fearful foresight led him ou.

\

A n'gighbor goes wi th him,

and the fai thful dog follows the

children's traéks.


“ Hold the l ightLow down

,he

’s making for the water. Hark

I know that whine ; the old\

dog's found theui

,Mark ;

So speaking, breathlessly he hurried onToward the old crazy foot bridge. I t was gone !And all his dull contracted light could showWas the black

,void

,and dark swollen stream below ; N

Yet there's l ife somewhere more than Tinker’s whine

That’s sure,

"said Mark. “ So

,let the lantern shine

Down yonder. There’s the dog and hark ! "

Odear !

And a low sob come faintly on the ear,Mocked by the sobb ing gust. Down quick as though t,Into the stream leaped Ambrose

,where he caugh t

Fast hold of somethingf—a dark huddled heapHalf in the water, where

’

twas scarce knee deep

For a tall man ; and half above i t propped

By some old ragged si de- piles that had stop’t

Endways the broken plank when i t gave way

W i th the two l it tle ones, that luckless day !My babes ! my lambkins ! was the afa/ ber

'

s cry,

One li ttle voice made answer,“ Her am I ;

’Twas Lizzy’s. There she crouched wi th face as white,

More ghastly, by the flickering lantern l igh t,Than sheeted corpse. The pale blue l ips drawn tight,W ide parted, show ing all the pearly teeth,And eyes on some dark object underneath,Washed by the turbid waters, fix

'

d l ike stone

One arm and hand stretched out, and rigid grown,Grasp ing, as in the death - gripe, Jenny

's frock.

There she lay ldrown’d.

They l ifted her from out her watery bed

I ts covering gone, the lovely l ittle headHung like a broken snowdrop all aside,And one small hand. The mother's shawl was t iedLeaving that free about thechild’s

'

small form

As was her last injunct ion “ fast and warm,

Too well obeyed— too fast ! A fatal hold}


Afi‘

ording to the soggy/by a thick fold

That caught and pinned her to the river’s bed.

While through the reckless water overhead,Her life breath bubbled up.“ She m igh t have l ived,S truggl ing like Lizzy

,

”was the thought that rived

The wretched mother’s heart when she heard all,

But for my fool ishness abou t that shawl."

Who says I forgot ?Mother ! indeed, indeed I kept fa! t hold,And t ied the shawl quite close— she

Can’

t be cc

But she won’t m’dve we slept— I don’t know howBut I held on, and I

’m so weary now

And i ts so dark and cold ! Oh dear ! oh

And she won’

t move— if father were but here

All night long from si de to s ide she turu’d,

Pi teous ly plaining l ike a wounded dove.Wi th now and then the murmur “ She won

’

t move,

And 10 ! when morn ing, as in mockery,brigh t

Shone on that pillow passing strange the s ight,

The young head’s raven an was streaked with white !

Southey .

The Suliote Mother.

She stood upon the loftiest peak,Am idst the clear blue sky ;

A bi tter smi le was on her cheek,And a dark flash in her ey e.

Dost thou see them,boy —.through the dusky pines ?

Dost then see where the foeman's armor shinesHast thou caught the gleam of the conqueror’s crest ?My babe

,that I cradled on my breast !

Wouldst thou spring from my mother’s arms with joy 7

-That sight hath cost thee a father,boy l

”


Sandalphon.Have y ou read in the Talmud of old,In the Legends the Rabbins have told,Of the l im it less realms of the air

,

Have y ou read i t, - the marvelous storyOf Sandalphon, the angel of Glory,Sandalphon

,the angel of Prayer ?

Howlerect,at the outermost gates

Of the City Celest ial, he waits,Wi th his feet son the ladder of l igh t,That

,crowdedwith angel 's unnumbered,

By Jacob was seen, as he slumbered‘

i

Alone in the desert at nigh t ?

The Angels of Wind and of Fire

Chant only one hymn,and expi re

With the song s i rresist ible stress ,

Expire ln thei r rapture and wonder,

As harp strings are broken asunder

By mus ic they throb to expressco n- in f

But serene in the ra’

fi turousthrong,Unmoved by the rush of the song,With eyes unimpassioned and slow,

Among the dead angels, the dea_ h_ lessSandalphon stands ly ening breathless ;To sounds that ascend from belov} ;

Fm the spi rits on earth that adore,

From the souls that entreat and implore,In the ferver and passion of prayer

,

From the hearts that are broken wi th losses;And w' eary wi th dragging the crossesToo heavy

ftfor mortalslto bear.

And he gathers the prayers as he stands,

Ani they change into flowers i n his hands,

Into garlandsof purple and red;And beneath the great arch of the portal

,

Thrpl i gh the streets of the Ci ty Immortal,

Iswafted the fragrance they shed .

boy of m ine !


It is but a legend I know,

A fable,a phantom

,a show

,

Of the ancient Rabbinical lore ;Yet the old mediaeval t radit ion

,

The beaut iful st range superst it ion,

But haunts me and holds me the more.

When I look from my window at nigh t,And the welkin above is all whi te

,

All throbbing and pant ing wi th stars,Among themfzmajesticiis standing,S andalph

/Qh, the angebexpand ing

His pinions:1n netfulous bars.

And the legend,I feel

,is a part

Of the image; and thirs t of tlQ heart,The fre

_

n_gy and fi_ r_e, of the brain,

That grasps at the fru itageforbidden,

The golden pomegranate‘

of Eden,

To qu iet i ts fever and pain.

The Soldi er’s Reprieve.

263

Longfellow.

Arranged by Mr. C.W. Sm nns for the Union Fi fth Reader.

I thought,Mr. Allan, when I gave my Bennie to his country,

that not a father in all this broad land made so precious a gift,—no

,

not one. The deer boy only slept a minute,just one l it tle m inu te

,

at his post ; I know that was all,for Benn ie never dozed over a

duty. How prompt and rel iable he was !

asleep one l i ttle second ;—he was so young,and not strong, that

Why , he was as tall as I,and only eigh teen ! and

now they shoot him because he was found asleep when doing sent inel duty !

I know he only fell

Twenty - four hours,the telegram said

,— only twenty

four hours. Where is Bennie now“ We wil l hope w i th his heavenly Father

,

soo th ingly.

“ Yes, y es ; let us hope ; God is very m erci ful !

I should be ashamed,father ! Bennie said ,

‘when I am a man,

to think I never used this great righ t arm,

’

and he held i t out so1 2

sai d Mr. Allan.


proudly before me,

for my country, when i t needed it ! Palsy itrather than keep —i t at the plow

Go,then

, go, my boy ,’ I said,

‘and God keep y ou God has

kept him,I think, Mr. Allan and the farmer repeated these last

words slowly,as if

,in Spi te of his reason, his heart doubted them.

“ Like the apple of his ey e, Mr. Owen, doubt i t not

Blossom sat near them l istening, wi th blanched cheek. She had

not shed a tear. Her anxiety had been so concealed that no one

had not iced i t. She had occupied herself mechan ically in the

hou sehold cares. N ow she answered a gent le tap at

“

the kitchen

door,Opening i t to receive from a neighbor’s hand a letter. “ I t is

from him,

”was all she sai d.

I t was l ike a message from the dead I Mr. Owen took the let ter

but could not break the envelope, on account of his tremblingfi ngers

,and held i t toward Mr. Allan

,w i th the helplessness of a

Ch ild.

The m inister opened i t,and read as follows

Dear Fatherz—When th-is reaches y ou, I shall be in etern ity.

At first,i t seemed awful to me ; but I have thought abou t i t so

much now,that it has no terror. They say they will not bind me,

nor blind me ; bu t that I may meet my death l ike a man. I though t,

father,i t m igh t have been on the batt le- field

,for my count ry, and

that,when I fel l

,i t would be fight ing gloriously ; but to be sho t

down l ike a dog for nearly betraying i t,—to die for neglect of du ty !

0 ,fa ther

,I wonder the very thought does not kill me ! B ut I shal l

not disgrace y ou. I am going to write y ou all about i t ; and whenI am gone

, y ou may tell my com rades. I can not now .

“ You know I prom ised Jemm ie Carr’s mother,I would look

aft er her boy ; and, when he fel l s ick, I did all I could for him . He

was not strong when he was ordered back into the ranks,and the

day before that nigh t, I carried al l his luggage, bes ides my own,on

ourmarch. Toward nigh t we went in on double- quick,and though

the luggage began to feel very heavy,every body else was t i red

too ; and as for Jemm ie,if I had not lent him an arm now and then,

he would have dropped by the way . I was all t i red out when we

came into camp,and then i t was Jemm ie’s turn to be sentry

,and I

would take his place ; but I was too t i red,father. I could not nave

kept awake if a gun had been pointed at my head ; but I did not

know i t unt i l well,unt il i t was too late.

”


m inute,now

,m igh t be the means of saving her brother

’

s l ife. And

so,in an incredibly shor t t ime, Blossom reached the Capital, and

hastened immediately to the Whi te House.

The President had but just seated himself to his morning’s task,of overlooking and s igning important papers, when, wi thou t one

word of announcement,the door softly opened

,and Blossom, wi th

downcast eyes,and folded hands, stood before him .

Well,my child, he said in h is pleasant , cheerful tones, what

do y ou wan t so brigh t and early in the morn ing 7"

Bennie’s l ife, please, sir,"fal tered Blossom .

Bennie ? Who is Bennie'

i"

My brother,sir. They are go ing to shoot him for sleeping at

his post.“ Oh, y es, and Mr. Lincoln ran his ey e over the papers before

him.

“ I remember ! It was a fatal sleep. You see,child, i t was

at a t ime of special danger. Thousands of l ives m ight have beenlost for his culpable negligence.

“ So my father said ,” repl ied B lossom gravely

,bu t poor Benn ie

was so t ired,sir

,and Jemm ie so weak. He did the work of two

,

s ir,and i t was Jemm ie's night

,not his ; but Jemm ie as too t i red

,

and Bennie never though t about himself,that he was t i red too.

"

What is this y ou say , child ? Come here ; I do not understand,and the kind man caught eagerly

,as ever

,at what seemed to be a

fust ificat ion of an offense.

Blossom went to him : he put his hand tenderly on her shoulder,and turned up the pale

,anxious face toward his. How tall he

seemed,and he was Pres ident of the Uni ted S tates too l A dim

thought of this kind passed for a moment through Blossom’s m ind ;

but she told her s imple and straigh tforward story,and handed Mr.

Lincoln Benn ie’s le t ter to read.He read i t carefully ; then, taking up his pen, wrote a few hastyl ines

,and rang his bell.

Blossom heard this order given : “ SEND THIS DISPATCH AT ONCE.

The Pres ident then turned to the girl and said : Go home,my

chi ld, and tell that father of yours , who could approve his count ry’ssentence

,even when i t took the l ife of a child like that

,that Abraham

Lincoln thinks the life far too precious to be lost . Go back,or

wait unti l to-morrow ; Bennie will need a change after he has so

bravely faced death ; he shall go wi th y ou.

”


God bless y ou, sir,

sai d Blossom ; and who shall doubt thatGod heard and registered the request ?Two days after this interview

,the young sold ier came to the

Whi te House wi th his lit tle s is ter. He was called into the Presi

dent’

s pri vate room,and a strap fas tened “ upon the shoulder."

Mr. Lincoln then said : “ The soldier that could carry a s ick com

rade'

s baggage, and die for the act so uncomplainingly,deserves

wel l of his country.

'l‘heu Bennie and Blessem took thei r way to

t he i r Green Mountain home. A crowd gathered at the Mill Depotto welcome them back ; and, as farmer Owen

’

s hand grasped thatof his boy , tears flowed down his cheeks

,and he was heard to say

fervent ly,THE LORD BE Paaxsan l

N. K Observer.

The Gy ni c.

The Cyni c is one who never sees a good qual i ty in a man,and

never fails to see u bad one. He is the human owl,vigilant in

darkness and bl ind to l igh t, mous ing for verm in, and never see ing

noble game.

The Cyni c puts all human act ions into only two classes— openly

bad,and secretly bad. All virtue

,and generos ity

,and disinter

estedness, are merely the appearance of good,but selfi sh at the

bot tom . He holds that no man does a good thing except for profi t.

The effect of his conversat ion upon your feel ings is to chil l and sear

them ; to send y ou away sour and morose.His cri t icisms and innuendoes fall indiscriminately upon every

lovely thing, l ike frost upon the flowers. If Mr. A. is pronounced

a rel igious man,he will reply : y es, on Sundays. Mr. B. has just

joined the church : certainly ; the elect ions are com ing on. The

m inister of the gospel is called an example of diligence : i t is hist rade. Such a man is generous : of othe r men’

s money. This

man is obl iging : to lull suspicion and cheat y ou. That man is

upright : because he is green.

Thus his ey e strains out every good qual ity, and takes in only

the bad. To him religion is hypocrisy, honesty a preparat ion for

fraud,v i rtue only a want of opportunity, and undeniable purity

,

ascet i cism. The livelong day he will coolly si t wi th sneering lip,transfix ing every character that is presented.

26 8 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION .

I t is impossible to indulge in such habitual severi ty of opinion

upon our fellow - men,wi thout injuring the tenderness and del icacy

of our own feel ings. A man will be what his most cherished

feel ings are. If he encourage a noble generosi ty , every feel ing will

be enriched by i t ; if he nurse bit ter and envenomed though ts, his

own spiri t will absorb the poison, and he will crawl among men as

a burnished adder,whose l ife is m ischief

,and whose errand is

death.

He who hunts for flowers,will find flowers ; and he who loves

weeds,may find weeds.

Let i t be remembered that no man,who is _

not h imself m orally

diseased,will have a relish for disease in others. Reject then the

morbid ambi tion of the Cynic,or cease to cal l yourself a man.

11 W: Beecher.

The Drummer’s Bride.

Hollow- eyed and pale at the window of a jail,

Thro’ her soft disheveled hai r,a maniac did s tare

, stare, stare !At a distance

,down the s treet

,making music with thei r f eet

,

Came the sold iers from the wars , all embellished wi th the i r scars,To the tapping of a drum

,of a drum ;

To the pounding and the sounding of a drum !Of a drum

,of a drum

,of a drum ! drum

,drum , drum l

The woman heaves a s igh,and a fire fil ls her ey e.

”

When she hears the dis tant drum,she cries

,

“ Here they come !here they come 1

Then, clutch ing fast the grat ing, wi th eager,nervous wai t ing

,

See,she looks into the ai r

,through her long and si lky hai r

,

For the echo of a drum,of a drum ;

For the cheering and the hearing of a drum !Of a drum,

of a drum,of a drum ! drum

,drum

,drum !

And nearer, nearer, nearer, comes , more dist inct and clearer,

The ratt le of the drumm ing ; shrieks the woman,

“ He is com ing,

He is com ing now to me ; quick, drummer, quick, t i ll I see !And her ey e is glassy bright , while she beats in mad delightTo the echo of a drum

,of a drum ;

To the rapping. tapping, tapping of a drum !Of a drum

,of a drum

,of a drum ! drum

,drum

,drum l

270 EXERCISES IN EL OCUTION.

And the name of that Isle is the Long Ago,And we bury our t reasures there ;There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snowThere are heaps of dust— but we loved them so l

There are trinkets and t resses of hair ;

There are fragments of song that nobody s ings,

And a part of an infant’s prayer ;There '

s a lute unswept,and a harp wi thout strings

There are broken vows and pieces of rings,

And the garments that she used to wear.

There are hands that are waved,when the fairy shore

By the mi rage is lifted in air ;

And we some t imes hear,through the turbulent roar,

Sweet vo ices we heard in the days gone before,

When the wind down the river is fai r.

0,remember for ay e, be the blessed Isle,All the day of our l ife t il l n igh tWhen the evening comes with i ts beautiful sm ile

,

And our eyes are clos ing to slumber awhile,

May that“ Greenwood ” of Soul be in s igh t !

B . F.

Exgglsior !

The shades of nightjwere fall ing fast,!

h an Alpine vi llage pessedbore

,

’m id snow and i ce,

the st range device,

Excelsior !

His browwas sad ? his ey e, beneath,Flashed l ike a falchion from i ts sheath ;And l ike a silver clarion rungThe accents of that unknown tongue

,

Excelsior !

In happy homes he saw the lightOf household fires gleam warm and brightAbove

,the spectral glaciers shone ;

And from his lips escaped a groan,

Excelsior l

EXERCISES IN E LOC UTION.

“ Try not the pass ! the old man sai d,

Dark lowers the tempest overhead ;The roaring torrent ’s deep and wide IAnd loud that clarion voice repl ied

,

Excels ior !

Oh l s tay,the maiden said, and rest

Thy weary head upon this breast !

A tear s tood in his bright blue ey e ;But s t il l he answered

,wi th a sigh

,

Excels ior !

Beware the pine- tree's wi thered branch !Beware the awful avalanche !

This was the peasant’s last goodo night

A voice repl ied, far up the he igh t,‘Excels ior l

At break of day , as heavenward

The pious monks of Saint Bernard

U ttered the oft- repeated prayer,

A voice cried through the s tart led air,

“ Excels ior !

A traveler,by the faithful hound

,

Half buried in the snow was found,S ti l l grasping in his hand of ice

That banner wi th the strange device,Excelsior

There,in the twilight cold and gray,

Lifeless, but beaut iful, he lay ;And from the sky , serene and far

,

A voice fell, l ike a fall ing starExcelsior l

27!

272 EXER CISES IN EL OCUTION .

Poor Litt le Jim.

The cottage was a thatched one, the outs ide old and mean,

But all within that l i ttle cot was wondrous neat and clean

The night was dark and stormy,the wind was howling wild,

As a pat ient mother sat bes ide the death-bed of her chi ldA li tt le worn- out creature

,his once brigh t eyes grown dim

I t was a coll ier’s wife and child,they called him l i t tle Jim.

And oh ! to see the briny tears fast hurrying down her cheek,

As she offered up the prayer,in though t

,she was afraid to speak

,

Lest she m igh t waken one she loved far bet ter than her l ife ;For she had all a mother’s heart

,had that poor coll ier’s wife .

Wi th hands upl ifted, see, she kneels bes i de the sufl'

erer’s bed

,

And prays that He would spare her boy , and take herself instead.

She gets her answer from the child : soft fall the words from him,

Mother,the angels do so sm ile

,and beckon l it tle Jim

,

I have no pain,dear mother

,now

,but 0 ! I am so dry

,

Just mo isten poor Jim’s lips again and

,mother

,don’

t y ou cry.

Wi th gentle,t rembling has te she held the l iquid to his l ip

He sm i led to thank her,as he took each li t tle

,t iny sip.

Tel l father, when he comes from work,I said good - nigh t to him

And,mother, now I

’ll go to sleep.

” Alas ! poor li t t le Jim lShe knew that he was dying ; that the chi ld she loved so dear,Had u ttered the last words she m igh t ever hope to hearThe cot tage door is opened

,the collier’s step is heard,

The father and the mother meet, y et ne i ther speak a word.

He felt that al l was over,he knew his ch ild was dead

,

He took the candle in his hand and walked toward the bed ;His quivering lips gave token of the grief he’d fain conceal

,

And see,his wife has joined him the st ricken couple knee l

W i th hearts bowed down by sadness,they humbly ask of Him

,

In heaven once more to meet again their own poor li tt le Jim .

274 EXERCISE'S IN ELOCUTION.

The Bel l.A selec t lon of prose poe t ry , wri t ten during the la te war.

The Roman knight who rode, all accou tred as he was into the

gulf,and the hungry forum closed upon him,

and was sat isfi ed,slew

,in his own dy ing, that great Phil ist ine, Obl ivion, which,

sooner or later,will conquer us all.

We never though t, when we used to read his sto ry,that the

grand class ic tragedy of patrio t ic devot ion would be a thousand

times repeated in our own day and presence ; that the face of the

ne ighbor,who had walked by our s ide all the while

,should be

transflgured, in the twinkling of an ey e, l ike the face of an angel ;that the old gods

,who thundered in Greek and l igh tened in Lat in,

should s tand as i de while common men,of plain Engl ish Spee ch

,

upon whose shoulders we had laid a fam i liar hand,should keep in

mo tion the machinery of the grandest epic of the world—the war

for the American Union.

But there is an old story that always charmed us more

In some s trange land and t ime— for so the story runs—they

were abou t to found a hell for a m idnight tower a hollow,starless

heaven of i ron. It should tol l for dead monarchs,

“ The king isdead and make glad clamor for the new prince,

“ Long li ve theking. It should proclaim so great a pas s ion or so grand a pride

,

that ei the r would be worship, or want ing these,forever ho ld i ts

peace. N ow this bel l was not to be dug out of the cold mountains ;i t was to be made of something that had been warmed by a human

touch and loved wi th a human love ; and so the people cam e, likepilgrims to a shrine, and cast the i r offerings into the furnace

,and

went away. There were l inks'

of chains that bondsmen had wornbrigh t

,and fragments of swords that had broken in heroes' hands

there we re crosses and rings and bracelets of fine gold ; t rinke ts ofS i lver and toys of poor red copper. They even brought things thatwere li cked up in an instant by the red tongues of flame, good wordsthey had wri tten and flowers they had cherished, perishable thingsthat could never be heard in the rich tone and volume of the be ll.And by and by

,the hell was alone in its chamber

,and i ts four windows

looked forth to the four quarters of heaven. For many a day i t

hung dumb. The winds came and went,but they only set i t sigh

ing ; the bi rds came and sang under i ts eaves,but i t was an i ron


hori zon of dead melody still : al l the meaner strifes and pass ions ofmen rippled on below i t ; they outgroped the ants and ou twrough tthe bees and outwatched the shepherds of Chaldea

,but the cham

bers of the bell were as dumb as the cave of Macpelah.

A t last there came a t ime when men grew grand for righ t and

tru th, and s tood shoulder to shoulder over all the land,and went

down like reapers to the harvest of death ; looked in the graves ofthem that s lept

,and believed there was someth ing grander than

l iving ; glanced on into the far future,and discovered there was

something bi tterer than dying ; and so,standing be tween the quick

and the dead,they acqu itted themselves l ike men. Then the be l l

awoke in i ts chamber,and the great waves of i ts music rolled

gloriously out and broke along the blue walls of the world like an

anthem ; and every tone in i t was fam iliar as an household word tosomebody

,and he heard i t and knew i t wi th a solemn joy . Poured

into that fiery heart toge ther,the humblest gifts were blent in one

great weal th,and accents

,feeble as a sparrow'

s song,grew e loquent

and s trong ; and lo l a people’s stately soul heaved on the waves of

a m igh ty voice.

We thank God, in this our day , for the furnace and the fi re ; for

the offerings of gold,and the t rinkets of si lver, and the broken links

of iron ; for the good sword and the true word ; for the great triumph

and the l i tt le song. We thank God for the loyal Ruths,who have

taken up the words of thei r elder s is ter and said to the Naomi of a

later t ime,

“ Where thou goest I will go ; thy people shal l be mypeople

,and thy God my God.

" By the memory of the Ramah,into

which rebell ion has turned the land ; for the love of the Rachels

now lament ing wi thin i t ; for the honor of heaven and the hope of

mankind,let us who stand here— past and present , clasping hands

over our heads, the broad age dwindled to a line beneath our fee t,

and bridged wi th the graves of dead martyrs— let us declare before

God and these wi tnesses

We will finish the work that the fathers began ;Then those to the i r sleeping,And these to thei r weeping,And one faith and one flag, for the Federal Union.

B. I f Tay lor.


Declaration of Independence.

When,in the course of human events, i t becomes necessary for

one people to dissolve the pol i t ical bands which have connected

them wi th ano ther,and to assume among the powers of the earth

the separate and eu l s tation to which the laws of nature and of

nature’8 God ent it le them ,a decent respect to the Opinions of man

kind requires that they should declare the causes which impel themto the separat ion.

We hold these truths to be self- ev ident : that all men are created

equal ; that they are endowed by thei r Creator wi th certain unal ieno

able rights ; that, among these are life,l iberty, and the pursui t of

happiness. That, to secure these rights, governments are ins t i tu ted

among men, deriving the i r just powers from the consent of the

governed ; that, whenever any form of government becomes des

truct ive of these ends,i t is the right of the people to al ter or

abol ish i t,and to inst i tute a new government

,laying i ts foundat ion

on such principles, and organizing i ts powers in such form,as to

them shall seem most likely to effect the i r safety and happiness.

Prudence,indeed

,will d ictate that governments long established

,

should not be changed for l ight and transient causes ; and, accord

ingly , all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed

to suffer, while evils are sufi'

erable,than to righ t themselves by

abo lishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But,when a

long train of abuses and usurpat ions,pursuing invariably the same

object,evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despot ism

,

i t is thei r right,i t is the ir du ty; to throw off such government

,and

to provide new guards for thei r fu ture security.

Such has been the pat ient sufi‘

erance of these colonies,and such

i s now the necess i ty which constrains them to al ter the i r formersystems of government. The history of the present k ing of GreatBri tain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpat ions, all having,in direct object

,'

the establishment of an absolu te tyranny overthese states. To prove this

,let facts be subm i t ted to a candid

world

He has refused his assent to laws the most wholesome and neces

sary for the public good.

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and

pressing importance, unless suspended in the i r operat ion t ill his

278 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTI ON

For cu tt ing off our trade wi th all parts of the world ;For impos ing taxes on us wi thou t our consent ;For depriving us

,in many cases

,of the benefi ts of t rial by jury ;

For transporting us beyond seas to be t ried for pre tendedoffenses ;

For abol ishing the free sys tem of English laws in a ne ighboring

province, establishing therein an arbi trary government , and enlarg

ing i ts boundaries, so as to render i t at once an example and fit

instrument for introducing the same abso lute rule into these

colonies ;For taking away Our charters

,abolishing our most Valuable laws

,

and al tering,fundamentally

,the powers of our governments ;

For suspending our own legislatures,and declaring themselves

invested wi th power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.He has abdicated government here

,by declaring us out of his

protect ion and waging war against us.He has plundered our seas

,ravaged our coasts

,burnt our towns

,

and des troved the l ives of our people.

He is,at this t ime

,transport ing large arm ies of fore ign merce

naries to complete the works of death,deso lat ion

,and tyranny

,

already begun, wi th circumstances of cruelty and perfidy scarcely

paralleled in the most barbarous ages,and totally unworthy the

head of a civi lized nat ion.

He has const rained our fellow- cit i zens, taken capt i ve on the highseas

,to bear arms against thei r country

,to become the execu t ioners

of the i r friends and brethren,or to fall themselves

,by thei r hands.

He has exci ted domes t ic insurrect ions amongst us,and has

endeavored to bring,on the inhabi tants of our front iers

,the m erci

less Indian savages,whose known rule of warfare is an nudist in

guished destruct ion of all ages,sexes

,and condit ions.

In every s tage of these oppress ions , we have pet i tioned for redressin the most humble terms ; our re peated pet i t ions have beenanswered only by repeated injury . A prince whose character isthus marked by every act which may define a tyrant

,is unfi t to be

the ruler of a free people.Nor have we been want ing in attent ion to our Bri t ish brethren.

We have warned them,from t ime to t ime

,of attempts made by

the i r legis lature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us.

EXERC’ISE'

S IN ELOCUTION . 279

We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigrat ion and

set tlement here. We have appealed to thei r nat ive just ice and

magnanim i ty,and we have conjured them ,

by the t ies of our com

m o n kindred , to disavow these usurpat ions, which would inevi tably

interrupt our connect ions and correspondence. They, too, have

been deaf to the'

voice of just ice and consanguini ty. We mus t,

therefore, acquiesce in the necess ity which denounces our separa

t ion,and hold them

,as we hold the rest of mankind

,enem ies in

war,in peace

,friends.

We,therefore

,the representat ives of the Uni ted S tates of

America,in general congress assembled

,appeal ing to the Supreme

Judge of the world for the rect i tude of our intent ions, do, in the

name and by the au thority of the good people of these colonies,so lemnly publish and declare

,That these United Colonies are

,and

of righ t ought to be,Free and Independent S tates ; that they are

absolved from all al legiance to the Bri t ish crown, and that all poli

t ical connect ion be tween them and the S tate of G reat Bri tain is,

and ought to be,to tal ly dissolved ; and that , as Free and Independ

ent S tates,they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, con

tract all iances,establish commerce, and to do al l other ac ts and

things which Independent S tates may of righ t do. And for the

support of this declarat ion, with a firm rel iance on the protect ion

of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our l ives,

our fortunes, and our sacred honor.

The Burial of Moses.

And he buried him In a valleyin the land of Moab, over against Beth -poor ;

but no man: knoweth of hi s sepu cher to th is day .

" —Deut. x xxi v : 6.

By Nebo’s lonely mountain,On th is s ide Jordan

’

s wave,In a vale in the land of Moab,There l ies a lonely grave ;

But no man dug that sepulcher,And no man

'

saw i t e'er,For the angels of God upturned the sod.

And laid the dead man there

280 EXERCISE S IN EL ooUTION.

That was the grandest funeralThat ever passed on earth ;

But no man heard the t ramping,Or saw the train go forth ;

No iseless ly as the day- light

Comes when the nigh t is done,And the crim son st reak on ocean’

s cheek

Grows into the great sun,

N oiselessly'as the spring- t ime

Her cra of verdure weaves,

And all the t rees on al l the hills

Open the i r thousand leaves,

So, wi thou t sound of mus ic

Or voice of them that wept,

S i lent ly down from the mountain crown

The great procession swept.

Perchance the bald old eagle,

On grey Beth—peor’

s height,

Out of his rocky eyrie,

Looked on the wondrous s igh t ;Perchance the l ion

,stalking

,

S t i ll shuns the hallowed spot

For beast and bird have seen and heard

That which man knoweth not.

Lo when the warrior dieth,

H is comrades in the war,

Wi th arms reversed and muffled drum,

Follow the funeral car.They show the banners taken

,

They tel l his bat tles won,

And after him lead his mas terless steed.While peals the minu te gun.

Ami d the noblest of the landMen lay the sage to rest

,

And give the hard an honored place,

Wi th costly marble dressed,


The Dy ing Chri stian to his Soul .

Vi tal Spark of heavenly flame !

Quit,Oqui t this mortal frame

Trembling,hoping

,l ingering, flying,

0 the pain, the bliss ofdy ing !

Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,And let me languish into life l

Hark ! they whisper ; angels say ,“ S is ter spiri t, come away I

What is this abso rbs me quite ?

S teals my senses, shuts my sigh t,Drowns my spirit

,draws my breath

Tell me,my soul

,can this be death

The world recedes ; i t disappears l

Heaven opens on my eyes ! my earsWi th sounds seraphic ring ;Lend

,lend your wings l I mount i I

0 Grave l where is thy victory ?0 Death ] where is thy st ing ?

Alexander Pop e

From the Honeymoon.

Duke. You are welcome home.

Jul. Home ! You are merry ; this ret i red spotWould be a palace for an owl !

Duke.'Tis ours.

Jul. Ay , for the time we stay in i t.Duke. By Heaven,This is the noble mansion that I spoke of l

Jul. This I—You are not in earnes t,though y ou hear

Wi th such a sober brow.—Come

,come

, y ou jest.Duke. Indeed I jest not ; were i t ours in jest,We should have none, wife.

Jul. Are y ou serious, sir ?

Duke. I swear,as I

’

m your husband,and no duke.

Jul. No duke ?


Duke. But of my own creation,lady.

Jul. Am I bet rayed ? Nay , do not play the fool !I t is too keen a joke.

Duke. You’ll find it true.

Jul. You are no duke,then

Duke. N one.

Ju l. Have I been cozened ?And have y ou no estate

,sir ?

No palaces,nor houses ?

Duke. None but this

A smal l snug dwell ing,and in good repair.

Jul. N or money,nor efi

'

ects ?

Duke. None that I know of.

Jul. And the at tendants who have wai ted on us

Duke. They were my friends ; who, having done .n y business,Are gone about thei r own.

Jul Why,then

,

't is clear.

That I was ever born l What are y ou, s ir ?Duke. I am an honest man that may content y ou.

Young,nor i l l- favour'd should not that content y ou ?

I am your husband,and that must content y ou.

Jul. I will go home !Duke. You are at home

,al ready.

Jul. I’ll not endure i t I—B ut remember thisDuke

,or no duke

,I’ll be a duchess

,sir l

Duke. A duchess l You shal l be a queen,

to all

Who,by the courtesy

,w i ll call y ou so.

Jul. And I will have at tendance !

Duke. So y ou shall,

When y ou have learned to wai t upon yourself.

Jul. To wai t upon myselfI Must I hear th is ?

I could tear out my eyes,that bade y ou woo me

,

And bite my tongue in two, for saying y es !

Duke. And if y ou should,

’ ’twould grow again.

I think,to be an honest yeoman’

s wife

(For such my would -be duchess, y ou will find me) .You were cut out by nature.

Jul. You will find,then,


That educat ion,sir

,has Spo il t me for i t.

Why l do y ou think I'll work ?

Duke. I think 'twill happen, wife.

Jul. What ! Rub and scrub

Your noble palace cleanDuke. Those taper fingersWill do i t daint i ly.

Jul. And dress your vi ctuals

(If there be any ) Oh I I could go mad !

Duke. And mend my hose, and darn my nigh tcaps neatlyWai t, l ike an echo

,t i ll you’re spoken to

Jul. Or like a clock,talk only once an hour

Duke. Or l ike a dial ; for that quiet ly

Performs i ts wo rk,and never speaks at all.

Jul. To feed your poul try and your hogs ] Oh, monstrous !

And when I st i r abroad,on great occas ions

Carry a squeaking t i the pig to the vicar ;Or jolt wi th higglers’ wives the market trotTo sell your eggs and but ter ]Duke. Excellent I

How well y ou sum the du t ies of a wife ]Why

,what a blessing I shal l have in you l

Jul. A bless ing !Duke. When they talk of y ou and m e

,

Darby and Joan shall no more be remembered

We shal l be happy lJul. Shal l we

Duke. Wondrous happy l

Oh, y ou wi ll make an adm i rable wife !Jul. I will make a vixen.

Duke. What

Jul. A very vixen.

Duke. Oh,no ! We

’ll have no Vixens.Jul. I’ll not bear i t !I’ll to my father

’s l

Duke. Gently : y ou forgetYou are a perfect stranger to the road.Jul. My wrongs will find a way , or make one.


B ut pause before y ou stain the spotless paper,Wi th words that may inflame, but cannot heal !

Jul. Why,what a pat ient worm y ou take me for !

Duke. I took y ou for a wife ; and ere I 've done,I ’

l l know y ou for a good one.

Jul. You shall know me

For a right woman, full of her own s ex

Who,when she sud

'

ers wrong, will speak her anger

Who feels her own prerogat i ve, and scorns,

By the proud reason of superior man,

To be taught pat ience, when her swel ling heart

Cries out revenge ! [E rik

Duke. Why, let the flood rage on !There is no t ide in woman

’s wildest passion

But hath an ebb. I '

ve broke the ice,however.

Wri te to her father ! She may wri te a fol io

B ut if she send i t I 'Twill divert her spleen

,

The flow of ink may save her blood—let t ing.

Perchance she may have fi ts ! They are seldom mortal,

Save when the Doctor's sent for.Though I have heard some husbands say , and wisely,A woman’s honor is her safest guard,Yet (here ’

s some virtue in a lock and key .

So,thus begins our honeymoon.

’T is well !

For the first fortnight,ruder than March winds

,

She'

ll blow a hurricane. The next,perhaps

,

Like Apri l she may wear a changeful faceOf storm and sunshine : and when that is past,She will break glorious as unclouded May ;And where the thorns grew bare, the spreading blossomsMeet wi th no lagging frost to ki ll thei r sweetness.Whi lst others

,for a month's delirious joy

Buy a dull age of penance, we, more w isely,Taste first the wholesome bi tter of the cup

,

That alter to the very lees shal l rel ish ;And to the close of this frail l ife prolongThe pure delights of a well—governed marri age.

John l bbz'

n.

EXERCIS ES IN E 14 0CUTION.

When7 How9 andWhyWhen did Johnnie die

,birdie

When did Johnnie die ?The earth was aglow w i th blossomsAnd vio le ts bloomed in the sky .

The scented air was aquiverWith mus ic of count less birds ;

And the beaut iful,sunl it ri ver

Seemed murmuring loving words.Fai r lambs

,l ike breathing lilies

,

Dotted the green hills ide ;And earth was filled with beauty ,When l i ttle Johnnie d ied.

How did Johnnie die, bird ie ?How did Johnnie die ?

His dear,blue eyes

,that widened

From long gaz ing on the sky ,

And filled wi th Heaven’s glory,All suddenly grew dim.

Ah ! well we knew the angelsWere looking down on him !

Without one glance at us mortals,Who knelt in grief by his s ide,

But w i th hands outstretched to those

Our l i tt le Johnnie died.

Why died our l ittle Johnnie ?

Does birdie ask me whyTo show how much of sorrow

One may bear, and y e t not die.To l ift our faint hearts upwardTo

“

the G racious One on High,Who blessed the l itt le childrenWhen He dwelt beneath the sky ;

To make us drop all earth propsFor the hand of the Crucified,

Ah ! not in vain,dear bi rdie

,

Our li ttle Johnnie died !

13

287 B7

288 .EXE'R013 5's IN E L00071 017.

The InchcapeBook.

No st i r in the air,no st i r in the sea,

The ship was st i ll as she could be ;Her sails from heaven received no mo tion ;Her keel was steady in the ocean.

Without ei ther s ign or sound of their shock,The waves flowed over the Inchcape RockSo l itt le they rose, so li ttle they fe ll,They did not move the Inchcape Be ll.

The Abbot of AberbrothockHad placed that bel l on the Inchcape Rock ;On a buoy in the storm i t floated and swung,And over the waves i ts warning rung.

When the rock was bid by the surge’s swell

The mariners heard the warning bell ;And then they knew the perilous rock,And blessed the Abbot of Aberbrothock.

The sun in heaven was sh ining gay ;All things were joyful on that day ;The sea- birds screamed as they wheeled round,And there was joyance in the ir sound.

The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen,A darker speck on the ocean green ;S ir Ralph the Rover walked his deck

,

And be fixed his ey e on the darker speck.

He felt the cheering power of spring ;It made him whistle

,i t made him s ing ;

His heart was mirthful to excess,

But the Rover’s m irth was wickedness.

His ey e was on the Inchcape float ;Quoth he

,

“ My men, put out the boat,

And row me to the Inchcape Rock,And I

’ll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothook.

”


But even in his dy ing fear,

One dreadful sound could the Rover hear,A sound

,as if

,wi th the Inchcape Bell,

The fiend belowwas ringing his knell.

Horatins.

A LAY MADE ABOUT THE YEAR OF THE CITY“CCCLX.

I And h amedIa tryst ing day ,And bade his messengers

‘ride

East and \west and south and north,To summon his array .

East\end west‘ahd sou th\and north

2The messengers ride Fas t

,

And tower and town and cottage“

Have heard the t rumpet’s blast.

Shame on the falseWho lingersl mhis, homeWhen Porsenalof ClusiumIs on the march\for Rom

From all the spacious champaTo Rome men took their ll im ile around the ci ty

,

The throng stopped up theA feai i

'

ul sight i t was to see

Through two long‘nights and


The Fathers‘of the Ci ty,

They sat all night and day ,\F f

For every hozur'some horseman

‘t ame

Wi th tidinggfof dismay}

They held a council'standingBefore the River-gate ;

Short t ime was there} y e well may guess,For mTi s ing

\or debate:

Out spake the Consuqroundly“ The bridge must straight go down ;

For, since Janiculumlis) ost,Naugh t fisfican save the town."

Just then a scouhcame fly ingxAll wild wi th has te and fear :

To arms l to arms l S ir Consul }

Lars Porsena is here.

“

On the low hilt o westwardThe Consul‘fixed his ey e, ~

And saw th rthy storm of dustRi the sky ,

Fast by the royal Manda-d)O’

erlooking, all the we

Lars gorsena of 0mSat in his i vory car} 1

By the right i’

v'

heel‘rode Mam ilius,

\

Prince'

of th Lat ian‘name ;

And by the left alse‘

Sex tus,

That wrought the deed of shame.’

But when the face of SextusWas seen among the foes,

rent thefirmamentthe

se- tops was no woman

But s at toward him and hissed ;No chil but screamedlout curses,And shook i ts litt le fist.


But the Consul’s brow‘i fi as sad,And the Consul’s spéé ct as low,

nd darkly looked helat the wal l,darkly at the foe.

van will be upon us

dge goes down ;once may win the bridge,

“ What hope/

to save the town ?

Then ochspake brave Horat ius,

A

fl TheQaptamlof the gate :To every man upon this earthDeath comethboonq

or late,

\

And how can mafi‘l ie by teThan facing fearful odds

,

I ?For the ashes pf his fathere

d

And the templefi f his Gods.

And/

for the tender/mothes‘ :

dandled him to rest}the w ife\who nurses

/

aby at her breast)

Andifor the holy maidens\

,Who feed the e ternal flame?

To save them from false Sextus

LIT/hat ught the deed of shame ?

“ Hewdown theWi th all the sp

I,w i th two moreWill hold the foe in play.

In y on strait path a thousandMay well be s top ed by three.

Now who will staxfffihn/ ei ther hand,And keep the bridge'w i th me ?

V’

Then out spake Spurius Lartius ;s be :

righ t handAnd keep the bridge wi th thee.


.f

No more,aghast and pale,

From Ostia's walls't’

he crowd’shall mark7

Thy thrice accursed

But now'

fro sound of laughfa'l \

Was heard among the foes.A wild and wrathfulgamorFrom all the vanguardhose.

S ix spears’ lengthFrom the entranceHalted that deep array

,M

And for a) p

ace no man came forthTo W i n the narrow -Way .

1

Yet 099 ma‘

tifor one moment’\

S trode out before the 01:nWell

’

knowf was“

he to all the Three:And they ga

le him gr

eet ing loud.‘

Now welcome,welcome, Sex tus l

Now welcome’fi) thy home lWhy dos t thou stay

,and tur a my 7

Em ies the road to Romfif’V1

But meanwhii é a n and leverHave manfully been pl ied }

And now‘the bridge hangs tottering lAbtp

'e the boi l ing t idefCome back? come back, Horatius lLoud cried the Fathersifall?

‘

Back,

’Lartius l

\back

,

/Herminius l

Back} ere the ru in fall l

Back;darted Spuri us LartiusHerm tisjdarted back p .

U"

) v/

1 I

And,as they passed

,beneath

'

the i r feetThey fel t the

But when they turned thei r faces,And on the farther shore

They would have crossed‘once more.

EXERCISE S IN ELOCUTION.

But;w i th a crash'like, thunderevery lggsened beam,

“

ke a dam,\ the m ighty wr

And a

s to the highest turret - topWas splashedphe yellow 0am.

Alone‘stood brave Horat i us

,

But constant st i ll in m ind ;Thrice th irty thousand foes(before,

\

And the broad flood behind.Down Wi th]hJm l cried false Sextus,With a sm ile on his

'

pale face.

“ Now yield thee,

" cried Lars Porsena,

Now y ield thee to our grace."

Round turned he, as not deigning]Those craven rank

ito see ;

Naugnt spake he to ars Porsena,

To Sextus naught spake he

But he saw on Palatmus

The wh i te porch of his

And he spake to the noble riverThat rolls by the towers]of Rome.

Oh, Tiber i Father Tiber lTo whom

A Roman’sll

No sound’of Joy por sorrow\

Was heard’from either bank\

But friendsland fpes i n dumb surprise,Wi th parted lipsfand straining eyes,7 S tood gazing/Where he sank13*

295

296 EXERCISE S IN E 14 0CUTION.

And when[above the surges,

They saw his crestfzippear,’

All'Rome sent forthla rapturous cryAnd even the rankslof Tuscanyfi

Could semis]forbea’

ffto cheer.

“ Curse on him l quoth falsegg

xtus

Will not the vi llaihidrownBut for th is latay

,ere close of day"

We should have sacked the town?“

th Lars Porsena,

shore

And\now

/he feels the bottom

Now on dry egith'i e stands ;Now round him’throng the FathersTo press |his gory hands ;

And now,lwi th shouts and clapp ing

,

’

And ne i se of weeping loud,

He enteys|through the River-Gate}

Borne‘by the joy oufi rowd. \

They gave hi'

fia'

pef the c1% land\

That was of publ ic,right

v

As mueblas twg strong oxen,Could plough]from morn t ill night;\

And they m ade’

a mol ten image}And set i t up

/on high}

And there i t/stands unto this day

To Wi tness if I l ie}

298 Ex tra oas es IN E'

LOC’UTION.

“ Work ! work ! work !

While the cock is crow ihg aloof !And work work workTill the s tafi ’

shine through the roof

I t's oh l to be a slaveAlong wi th the barbarous Turk,Whene woman has never a soul to save,If thisQChrist ian work !

Work work work

Till the braidbegins to sw imWork—work—workTill the ey es

‘

are heavy and dim !

Scam and gusset apd band

,

Band and gusset and seam,

\

Till over the but tons I fall asleep,And sew them on in a dream l\

Oh, men with sisters dear !

Oh,men wi th mothers and wi ves !

It is not l inen y ou're wearing out

,

But human creatures’ li ves !

S t i tch st i tch st i tch

In poverty,hunger

,and di rt,

Sewing at once,wi th a double thread,

A shroud as wel l as a shirt !

But why do I talk of death,

That phantom of grisly bone 7I hardly fear his terrible shape

,

It seems so l ike my own

It seems so like my own,

Because of the fasts I keep ;0 God I that bread should be so dear

,

And flesh and blood so cheap !

Work work work 1My labor never flags

And what are its wages ? A bed of straw,

A crust of bread and rags ;

EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION . 299 299

That shat tered roof and this naked floor

A table—a broken chai r

And a wal l so blank,my shadow I thank

For somet imes fall ing there !

Work work work

From weary chime to chime ;Work work work

As prisoners work for crime !Band and gusset and sea

Scam and gusset and band,Ti ll the heart is s i ck and the brain benumbed,As well as the weary hand !

Work work work

In the dull December l igh t ;And work work work

When the weather is warm and bright ;Wh ile underneath the eaves

The brooding swallows cling,As if to show me thei r sunny backs

And twit me with the spring.

Oh ! but to breathe the breath

Of the cowslip and primrose sweet ;With the sky above my head,And the grass beneath my feet ;

For only one short hour

To feel as I used to feel,

Before I knew the woes of want

And the walk that costs a meal !

Oh but for one short hour !

A respi te however brief!

No blessed leisure for love or hope,But only t ime for grief !

A li t t le weeping would ease my heart ;But in the i r briny bed

My tears must stop, for every drop

Hinders needle and thread !

300 EXERCISE S IN EL OCUTION.

Wi th fingers weary and worn,With eyel ids heavy and red,

A woman sat,in unwomanly rags,

P lying her needle and thread ;S ti tch ! st itch ! st itch !

In poverty,hunger

,and dirt ;

And s t i ll with a vo ice of do lorous pitchWould that i ts tone could reach the rich !

She sang this “ S ong of the Shirt !

Athena, the Queen of the Air.

We will take the bird first. I t is li t t le more than a drift of the

ai r brough t into form by plumes ; the air is in all i ts qu i lls,i t

breathes through i ts whole frame and flesh,and glows wi th air in

i ts flying,l ike blown flame : i t rests upon the air

,subdues i t

,sur

passes i t,ou traces i t ;— t

’

s the air,conscious of i tself

,conquering

i tself,ruling itself.

Also,into the throat of the bi rd is given the vo ice of the air.

All that in the wind i tself is weak,wild

,useless in sweetness

,is

kni t together in i ts song. As we may imagine the wild form of the

cloud closed into the perfect form of the bird’s wings, so the wildvoice of the cloud into i ts ordered and commanded voice ; nu

wearied , rippl ing through the clear heaven in i ts gladness,inter

pre ting all intense pass ion through the soft Spring nigh ts,burst ing

into rapture of acclaim and rapture of choi r at daybreak,or l iepiug

and twit tering among the boughs and hedges through heat of day ,l ike l i tt le winds that only make the cowsl ip bells shake

,and rufll e

the petals of the wild rose.

Also,upon the plumes of the bi rd are put the colors of the an

on these the gold of the cloud that cannot ’be gathered by anycovetousness ; the rubies of the clouds, that are not the pri ce of

Athena, but are Athena ; the verm i lion of the cloud- bar,and the

flame of the cloud - crest, and the snow of the cloud,and i ts shadow

,

and the melted blue of the deep wells of the sky— all these

,sei zed

by the creat ing spirit , and woven by Athena hersel f into films and

threads of plume ; wi th wave on wave following and fading alongbreast

,and throat

,and opened wings, infinite as the dividing of the


If the obligation of obedience is limi ted and controlled by the

measure of informat ion ; in o ther words, if the party is bound to

obey the cons t i tu t ion only as he understands i t, what will be the

consequence ? The judge of an inferior court will d isobey the

mandate of a superior tribunal, because i t is not in conform i ty to

the const i tut ion as he understands i t ; a custom - house ofli cer willdisobey a circular from the treasury department

, because contrary

to the const itu t ion as he understands i t an American m inister will

d isregard an instruction from the Pres ident, communicated from

the department of state,because not agreeable to the const i tut ion

as he understands i t ; and a subordinate officer in the army or navy

w ill violate the orders of his superiors,because they are not in ac

cordance with the cons t i tution as he understands i t.

We shal l have nothing set tled,noth ing s table, nothing fixed.

There will be general d isorder and confus ion throughou t every

branch of the adm inistrat ion,from the highest to the lowest officer

—uni versal nullificat ion. For, what is the doctrine of the Presi

dent but that of Sou th Carol ina applied throughou t the Union ? The

Pres ident independent both of Congress and the Supreme Court !

Only bound to execute the laws of the one and the decis ions of the

other as far as they conform to the const i tut ion of the United

S tates as he understands i t ! Then i t should be the duty of everyPresident

,on his instal lat ion into office

,carefully to exam ine all the

acts in the statute book,approved by his predecessors

,and mark

out those which he is resolved not to execute,and to which he

means to apply this new species of veto,because they are repug

neat to the consti tut ion as he understands i t. And,after the expira

t ion of every term of the Supreme Court,he should send for the

record of i ts decis ions,and discrim inate between those wh ich he

will, and those which he will not , execute, because they are or arenot agreeable to the const i tut ion as he understands i t.

Mr. Pres ident, we are about to close one of the longest and mostarduous sess ions of Congress under the present const i tu t ion ; andwhen we return among our conSu tuents what account of the operat ions of thei r government shall we be bound to communicate ?We shal l be compel led to say that the Supreme Court is paralyzed

,

and the m iss ionaries retained in prison in contempt of i ts au thori ty

and in defiance of numerous treat ies and laws of the Uni ted S tates ;

EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTI ON. 303

that the execu t ive,through the secretary of the Treasury

,sent to

Congress a tariff bill wh ich would have destroyed numerous

branches of our domest ic industry ; and, to the final des truct ionof all, that the veto has been appl ied to the bank of the United

S tates, our only rel iance for a sound and un iform currency ; that

the Senate has been violently attacked for the exercise of a clear

const i tut ional power ; that the House of Representat ives have beenunnecessarily assai led ; and that the President has promulgated a

rule of act ion for those who have taken the oath to support the

const itu t ion of the Uni ted S tates, that must, if there be pract i calconform i ty to i t

,introduce general nullification and end in the

absolute subversion of the government.Henry C lay .

Marco Bomaris

At m idnight,in his guarded tent,

The Turk was dream ing of the hour

When Greece,her knee in suppl iance 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 were his monarch's S ignet ring

Then pressed that monarch’s throne a king ;As wild his thoughts

,and gay of wing

,

As Eden’s garden bird.

At midnight, in the forest shades,Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band,True as the steel of thei r tried blades ,Heroes in heart and hand.

There had the Persian's thousands stood,

There had the glad earth drunk thei r bloodOn old Plataea’s day ;

And now there breathed that haunted air

The sons of si res who conquered there,

Wi th arm to st rike and soul to dare,As quick

, as far as they.


An hour passed on— the Turk awoke ;That bright dream was his last ;

He woke—to hear his sentries shriek,“ To arms l they come ! the Greek ! the Greek !

He woke to die m idst flame, and smoke,And shout

,and groan

,and sabre- stroke

,

And death shots fal l ing thick and fastAs l ightnings from the mountain- cloud ;And heard

,with vo ice as t rumpet loud

,

Bozzaris cheer his band“ S trike t ill the last armed foe expires ;S trike for your altars and your fires ;S trike—for the green graves of your s ires

,

God, and your nat ive land !

They fought—l ike brave men,long and well ;

They pi led that ground with Moslem slain,They conquered—but Bozzaris fell

,

Bleeding at every vein.

His few surviving com rades sawHis smi le when rang thei r proud hurrah

,

And the red field was won ;Then saw in death his eyel i ds closeCalmly

,as to a nigh t’s repose

,

Like flowers at set of sun.

Come to the bridal—chamber,Death !

Come to the mother’s,when she feels,

For the first t ime,her firs t—born's breath

Come when the blessed sealsThat close the pest i lence are broke

,

And crowded cit ies wai l i ts strokeCome in consumption’s ghas tly form

,

The earthquake shock,the ocean- storm ;

Come when the heart beats high and warm,

Wi th banque t - song,and dance and wine :

And thou art terrible the tear,

The groan,the knell

,the pal], the b ier ;

And all we know,or dream

,or fear

Of agony,are thine.


H is pl ighted maiden,when she fears

For him the joy of her young years,Thinks of thy fate, and checks her tears

And she,the m o ther of thy boys,

Though in her ey e and faded cheek

Is read the grief she w i ll not speak,The memory of her buried joys,

And even she who gave thee birth,Will

,by the ir pilgrim - circled hearth

,

Talk of thy doom W i thout a s igh :

For thou art Freedom’s now,

and Fame’s,

‘

One of the few,the immortal names,

That were not born to die.Fi tz-Greene B ullock.

The Teetotal Mi ll.Two jolly old topers sat once in an inn

,

Discuss ing the meri ts of brandy and gin ;

Sai d one to the other,I ’ll tell y ou what , Bill,

I ’

ve been learning to- day of the Teetotal Mill.

You must know that this com ical Mill has been buil tOf old broken casks

,where the l iquor ’s been spi lt ;

You go up some high steps, and when at the si ll,You

've a paper to sign at the Teetotal Mill.

You prom ise,by s igning this paper (I think) ,

That ale, wine and spiri ts y ou never w ill drink ;You give up (as they cal l i t) such rascally swi ll,And then y ou go into the Teetotal Mi ll.

There ’s a wheel in this Mill that they call ‘self- denial

,

’

They turn i t a hit,just to give y ou a t rial ;

Old clothes are made new,and if y ou

've been ill

,

You are very soon cured at the Teetotal Mi ll."

Bill l istened and wondered—at length he cried out,

Why,Tom

,if i ts t rue

,what y ou

’re telling about,

What fools we must be to be here si tting st ill,

Let us go and we’ll look at th is Teetotal Mill.

EXERCISES IN .ELOCUTION. 307

They gazed with astonishment ; there came in a man,

Wi th excess and disease his visage was wan ;He mounted the steps

,s igned the pledge wi th good will

,

And went for a turn in the Teetotal MilL

He qu ickly came out,the picture of health

,

And walked briskly on the highway to wealth ;And

,as onward he pressed

,he shouted out st i ll

,

Success to the wheel of the Teetotal Mill."

The next that went in were a man and his wife,

For many long y ears they'd been l iving in strife ;

He had beaten her shamefully,swearing he ’

d kil l,

But his heart took a turn in the Teetotal Mill.

And when he came out how altered was he,S teady

,honest

,and sober—how happy was she ;

They no more contend,

“ No y ou shan'

t Yes I will.They were blessing together the Teetotal Mill.

Next came a rough fellow,as grim as a Turk

,

To curse and to swear seemed his principal work ;He swore that that morning himself he would fi ll,And drunk as he was he reeled into the Mill.

And what he saw there,I never could tell

,

But his conduct was changed,and his language as well ;

I saw,when he turned round the brow of the h ill

,

That he knel t and thanked God for the Teetotal Mill.

The poor were made rich, the weak were made strong,

The shot was made short,and the purse was made long

These m i racles puzzled both Thomas and Bill,At length they went in for a turn in the Mill.

A little t ime after,I heard a great shou t,

I turned round to see what the noise was about ;A flag was conveyed to the top of the hill,And a crowd

,amongst which were both Thomas and Bill,

Were shouting,“ Hurrah for the Teetotal Mill.”


Litt le Bennie

A CHRISTMAS STORY.

I had told him , Christmm morning,As he sat upon my knee,Holding fast his l it tle stockings,S tufl

‘

ed as ful l as ful l can be,And at tent ive l is tening to me,Wi th a face demure and m ild

,

That old Santa Claus, who fil led them,Did not love a naugh ty chi ld.

But we’ll be good

,won’

t we,moder,

”

And from off my lap he slid,Digging deep among the goodiesIn his crimson s tockings hid.While I turned me to my table,Where a temp ting goblet stood

Brimm ing high wi th dainty custardSent me by a neighbor good.

But the ki tten,there before me

,

With his whi te paw,nothing loth

,

Sat, by way of enterta inment,Lapping off the shining froth ;

And,in not the gentlest humor

At the loss of such a treat,

I confess I rather rudely

Thrust him out into the street.

Then how Benn ie's blue eyes kindled ;Gathering up the precious store

He had bus ily been pouringIn his t iny pinafore

,

With a generous look that shamed meSprang be from the Carpet bright

,

Showing by his m ien indignant,All a baby

’

s sense of righ t.


And I bend above him ,weeping

Thankful tears. Oundefiled l

For a woman’s crown of glory,

For the bless ing of a chi ld.Annie Chambers Ketchum.

Lady Clare.

It was the t ime when l ilies blow,

And the clouds are highes t up in air,

Lord Ronald brought a l ily -whi te doeTo give his cousin

,Lady Clare.

I t row they did not part in scorn ;Lovers long betrothed were theyThey two will wed the morrow morn ;God's blessing on the day !

He does not love me for my birth ,Nor for my lands as broad and fai r ;

He loves me for my own true worth,

And that is well,

”said Lady Clare.

In there came old Alice,the nurse

,

Said,Who was this that went from thee

“ It was my cous in,"said Lady Clare

,

To-morrow he weds with me.

"

OGod be thanked l said Al ice the nurse,

“ That all comes round so just and fair,

Lord Ronald is hei r of all your lands,

And y ou are not the Lady Clare.

”

Are y e out of your mind,my nurse

,my nurse ?

Said Lady Clare,

“ that y e speak so wi ld“ As God

'

s above,

said Al ice the nurse,

I speak the t ruth ; y ou are my child."

“ The old earl’s daughter died at my breast ;I speak the truth as I live by bread ;

I buried her like my own sweet ch ild,

And put my chi ld in her stead.

"

EXERC ISES IN Ew c urmN.

Falsely,falsely have y e done,

0 mother,

”she said

,

“ i f this be true,To keep the best man under the sunSo many y ears from his due.

"

Nay now,my child, sa id Alice the nurse

,

But keep the secret for your l ife,

And all y ou have will be Lord Ronald'

sWhen y ou are man and wife.

”

“ If I’m a.beggar born, she said

,

“ I will speak cut, for I dare not hePull ofl

'

, pull off the brooch of gold,

And fling the diamond necklace by .

Nay now,my ch ild, said Al ice the nurse,

But keep the secret all y ou can

She said,“ Not so ; but I will know,

If there be any faith in man.

"

Nay now,what faith ? said Alice the nurse,

“ But keep the secret all y ou can,

”

She said,Not so ; bu t I wi ll know,

If there be any faith in man.

"

Nay now, what faith ? said Alice the nurse,The man will cleave unto his right.”

And he shall have it,"the lady repl ied,

“ Though I should d ie to—night."

“ Yet give one kiss to your mother dear;Alas, my chi ld, I s inned for thee l0 mothe r, mother, mother,

”she said

,

S o strange i t seems to me."

Yet here's a kiss formy mother dear,

My mother dear, i f this be so ;And lay your hand upon my head,And bless me, mother, ere I go.

"

She clad herself in a russet gown,

She was no longer Lady Clare,She went by dale and she went by down,W i th a single rose in her hai r

1 4

an

3 12 EXERCISES IN ELOCUH ON.

The l i ly- white doe Lord Ronald had brought,Leapt up from where she lay ,

Dropt her head in the maiden’s hand

And followed he r all the way .

Down stept Lord Ronald from his tower,“ Lady

'

Clare, y ou shame your worth,

Why come y ou drest l ike a vi llage maid,That are the flower of the earth ?

“ If I come drest l ike a village maid,I am but as my fortunes are ;

I am a beggar born,

"she said

,

And not the Lady Clare.

“ Play me no tricks,

sai d Lord Ronald,“ For I am yours in word and deed ;

Play me no t ri cks,"said Lord Ronald,

Your riddle is hard to read."

Oh, and proudly stood she up ;Her heart within her did not fai l

She looked into Lord Ronald’s eyesAnd told him all her nurse’s tale.

He laughed a laugh of merry scorn,

He turned and kissed her where she stood.

If y ou are not the hei ress born,

And I,"

said he,

“the next of blood

“ If y ou are not the hei ress bo rn,

Aug] I,"said he

,the lawful heir

,

We two will wed to -morrow morn,

And y ou shal l st i ll be Lady Clare.

M ug/son.

The (it on the Judgment Seat .

Where hast thou been toi l ing all day , sweetheart,That thy brow is burdened and sad ?

The Master’s work may make weary feet,But it leaves the Spiri t glad.

814‘ EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION.

The voice that shall sound there at eve, sweetheart,Will not strive nor cry to be heard ;

It will hush the earth , and hush the hearts,And none will res ist its word.

“ Should I see the Mas ter's treasures lost,The gifts that should feed his poor,

And not l ift my vo ice (be£as weak as i t may ) ,

And not be grieved sor

Wait t i ll the evening falls, sweetheart,Wait till the evening falls ;

The Master is near and knoweth all,Wait ti ll the Master calls.

But how fared thy garden plot, sweetheart,Whi lst thou sat on the judgment seat 7Who watered thy roses, and t rained thy y ince,And kept them from careless feet ?

Nay ! that is saddest of all to me,That is saddest of all l

My vines are trail ing, my roses are parched,My l ilies droop and fall.”

Go back to thy garden plot, sweetheart,Go back t ill the evening falls,

And bind thy l ilies, and t rain thy vines,Till for thee the Master calls.

Go make thy garden fai r as thou canst,Thou workest never alone ;

Perchance he whose plot is next to thine,

Wi ll see i t, and mend his own.

And the next shall copy his, sweetheart ,

Till all grows fai r and sweet ;And when the Maste r comes at eve

,

Happy faces'

his com ing will greet .

Then shall thy joy be full, sweetheart,In thy garden so fai r to see

,

In the Master’s voice of praise to all,

In a lookof his own for thee.

By the Au thor of the C'otta Firm-My .


Wanted, a.Minister's Wife.

At length we have settled a pastorI am sure I cannot tell why

The people should grow so restless,

Or candidates grow so shy ;But after a two years searchingFor the smartegt man in the land,

In a fit of desperat ionWe took the nearest at hand.

And really,he answers nicely

To fi ll up the gap,”

y ou know ;To run the machine

,and bring up arrears

,

And make things generally go ;He has a few li ttle fail ings,His sermons are common- place qui te,

But his manner is very charm ing,

And his teeth are perfectly white.

And so, of all the dear people,Not one in a hundred complains

,

For beauty and grace of manner

Are so much better than bra ins.But the parish have al l concludedHe needs a partner for l ife

To shine a gem in the parlor“ Wanted, a m inister

’

s wife I

Wanted,a perfect lady,

Del icate,gent le

,refined

,

Wi th every beauty of person,

And every endowment of mind ;Fi tted by early cul tureTo move in fashionable life

Please no tice‘

our advert isementWanted

,

"etc.

I’Vanted,a thoroughbred worker,

Who well to her household looks ;(Shall we see our money wastedBy ext ravagant Irish cooks 7)


Who cuts the dai ly expensesWith economy sharp as a kn ife ;

And washes and scrubs in the kitchen

Wanted,

”etc.

A very domest i c person,

To callers she must not be out,

It has such a bad appearance

For her to be gadding about

Only to vis it the parishEvery year of her l ife,

And attend the funerals and weddings“ Wanted

,etc.

To conduct the ladies’ meeting,The sewing circle at tend

And when we work for the sold iers,Her ready assistance to lend.

To clothe the desti tute childrenWhen sorrow and want are ri fe

,

And look up S unday- school scholars“ Wanted

,

"etc.

Careful to entertain st rangers,

Travel ing agents,and such

,

”

Of this kind of angel vis i ts,The deacons have had so much

As to prove a perfect nuisance ,And hope these plagues of thei r

Can soon be sent to the parson's :Wanted

,

"etc.

A perfect patte rn of prudence,

Than all o thers spending less,

But never disgracing the parishBy looking shabby in dress ;

Playing the organ on SundayWould aid our laudable strife

To save the society money

Wanted,

"etc.


Our lamps we ’ll fi ll brirnfu' 0’ oil

That ’

s gude an’ pure— that w i ll na spo il,

We’ll keep them burnin

’

a’the while

To l ight our way ,Our work bein

’done we

’

li qui t the soil

Maist onie Day .

The True Teacher.

I hold the teacher’s posi t ion second to none. The Christian

teacher of a band of children combines the offi ce of the preacher

and the parent,and has more to do in shaping the m ind and the

morals of the community than preacher and parent uni ted. The

teacher who spends s ix hours a day wi th my child, Spends three

t imes as many hours as I do,and twenty fold more t ime than my

pas tor does. I have no words to express my sense of the import

ance of your ofii ee.

S t ill less have I words to express my sense of the importance

of having that office filled by men and women of the purest mot i ves,the noblest enthusiasm

,the finest cul ture

,the broadest chari ties

,

and the most devoted Christ ian purpose. Why, s ir, a teacher

should be the st rongest and most angel ic man that breathes. N o

man living is int rus ted wi th such precious material. No man l iving

can do so much to set human life to a noble tune. No man l iving

needs higher qual ifi cat ions for his work. Are y ou“ fi tted for teach

ing 7 I do not ask y ou this quest ion to discourage y ou, but tost imulate y ou to an eff ort at preparat ion wh ich shall cont inue as

long as y ou cont inue to teach.Holland.

NewYear’s Eve.

Li t t le Gretchen, l it tle Gretchen wanders up and down the streetThe snow is on her yel low hai r

,the frost is at her feet.

The rows of long, dark houses without look cold and damp,By the struggl ing of the moonbeam

,by the flicker of the lamp.

The clouds ride fast as horses,the wind i s from the north

,

Bu t no one cares for Gretchen,and no one looketh forth.

Wi thin those dark,damp houses are merry faces bright

,

And happy hearts are watching out the old year’s latest n ight.

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION. 3 19

W i th the little box of matches she could not sell all day ,And the th in

,thin tattered mantle the wind blows every way ,

She clingeth to the rai l ing, she shi vers in the gloom ,

There are parents s i tt ing snugly by firel ight in the room ;And children wi th grave faces are whispering one another

Of presents for the new year,for father or for mother.

But no one talks to Gretchen,and no one hears her speak

,

No breath of l i ttle whispers comes warm ly to her cheek.

No l i ttle arms are round her : ah me l that there should be,

With so much happiness on earth,so much of m isery ]

Sure they of many blessings should scatter bless ings round,As laden boughs in autumn fl ing thei r ripe fruits to the ground.And the best love man can offer to the God of love

,be sure

,

Is kindness to his lit tle ones,and bounty to his poor.

Little Gretchen,l i t tle Gretchen goes coldly on her way ;

There ’s no one looked out on her

,there ’

s no one bids her stay .

Her home is cold and desolate ; no smi le, no food, no fire,But children clamorous for bread, and an impat ient s i re.

So she s its down in an angle where two great houses meet,And she curled upbeneath her, for warm th, her l i ttle feet ;And she looketh on the cold wall, and on the colder sky ,And wonders if the l i tt le stars are bright fires up on high.

She hears a clock strike slowly, up in a far church tower,W i th such a sad and solemn tone, telling the m idnight hour.

And she remembered her of tales her mother used to tel l,And of the cradle- songs she sang, when summer

’

s twilight fell ;Of good men and of angels

,and of the Holy Child,

Who was cradled in a manger,when winter was most w i ld ;

Who was poor, and cold, and hungry, and desolate and lone ;And she though t the song had told be

'

was ever with his own ;And all the poor and hungry and forsaken ones are his

,

How good of Him to look on me in such a place as this ?

Colder i t grows and colder, but she does not feel i t now,

For the pressure at her heart,and the we ight upon her brow ;

But she st ruck one l i ttle match on the wal l so cold and bare,That she m igh t look around her, and see if He were there.

14*

320 EXERCISES IN E LOC UTION .

The single match has kindled, and by the l igh t i t threw

It seemed to l it tle Gretchen the wall was rent in two ;

And she could see folks seated at a table richly spread,Wi th heaps of goodly viands, red wine and pleasant bread.

She could smell the fragrant savor, she could hear what they didsay ,

Then all was darkness once again,the match had burned away.

She struck another has t ily, and now she seemed to see

Wi thin the same warm chamber a glorious Christmas t ree.

The branches were all laden wi th things that chil dren prize,Bright gi ft s for boy and maiden she saw them with her eyes.

And she almost seemed to touch them,and to join the welcome

shoug

When darkness fell around her, for the l it tle match was ou t.

Another, y et another, she has tried they will not l ight ;

Till all her li t tle store she took,and struck wi th al l her m igh t

And the whole miserable place was lighted wi th the glare,

And she dreamed there stood a l i tt le chi ld before her in the air.

There were blood - drops on his forehead,a spear-wound in his s ide

,

And cruel nai l - prints in his feet, and in his handsspread wi de ;And he looked upon her gent ly, and she fel t that he had knownPain

,hunger

,cold

,and sorrow ay , equal to her own.

And he pointed to the laden board and to the Christmas t ree,

Then up to the cold sky , and said,Will Gretchen come wi th me ?

The poor child fe l t her pulses fai l,she fe lt her eyeballs swim

,

And a ringing sound was in her ears,l ike her dead mo ther’s hymn

And she folded both her th in whi te hands,and turned from that

bright board,

And from the golden gifts , and said, Wi th thee, wi th thee, OLord ?The ch illy winter morning breaks up in the dull skiesOn the city wrapt in vapor

,on the spot where Gretchen l ies.

In her scant and tat tered garment,wi th her back against the wall

,

She s i tteth cold and rigid, she answers to no call.They have l ifted her up fearfully

,they shuddered as they said

,

It was a bi tter,bi tter night ] the chi ld is frozen dead."


came up, and'

then dodged him into a corner, and rapped him over

the head wi th his lantern five or six t imes, just to teach him to

modulate his voi ce. And as the boy hurried away with his hand

to his head singing qui te a different sort of tune, Gabriel Grub

chuckled very hearti ly to himself, and entered the churchy ard, lock

ing the door behind him.

He took 06 his coat, set down his lantern, and getting into the

unfinished grave, worked at i t for an hour or so, w i th right good

will. But the earth was hardened wi th the frost, and i t was no

very easy mat ter to break i t up,and shovel i t out ; and al though

there was a moon,i t was a very young one

,and shed litt le l ight

upon the grave,which was in the shadow of the church. At any

other t ime these obstacles would have made Gabriel Gr ub verym oody and miserable, but he was so wel l pleased wi th havingstopped the small boy’s singing

,that he took little heed of the scan ty

progress he had made, and looked down into the grave when he had

finished work for the night wi th grim sat isfact ion,murmuring

,as he

gathered up his things

Brave lodgings for one. brave lodgings for one.A few feet of co ld earth when life i s done.

Ho l ho l laughed Gabriel Grub, as he sat h imself down on a

fiat tombstone, wh ich was a favo ri te rest ing- place of his,and drew

forth his wicker bottle ;“a coffin at Christmas a Christmas box.

Ho l ho l ho l“ Ho l ho l ho l repeated a voice

,wh ich sounded close behind

him .

Gabriel paused in some alarm,in the act of raising the wicker

bot t le to his l ips, and looked round. The bottom of the oldestgrave abou t him was not more st i ll and quiet than the churchyard

in the pale moonl igh t. The frost glistened on the tombstones,and

sparkled l ike rows of gems among the stone ~carvings of the old

church. Not the faintest rust le broke the profound tranqui ll ity of

the solemn scene. Sound i tself appeared to be frozen up, all was

so cold and still.“ I t was the echoes, said Gabriel Grub

,raising the bot t le to his

l ips again.

“ It was not,said a deep voice.

EXERCISE S IN E LOCUTION. 323

Gabriel started up, and stood rooted to the spot,wi th astonish

ment and terror ; for his eyes res ted on a form which made hisblood run cold.Seated on an uprigh t tombstone

,close to him

,was a s trange nu

earthly figure, whom Gabriel fel t at once was no being of this world.His long fantast ic legs wh ich m igh t have reached the ground , werecooked up

,and crossed after a quaint fantas t ic fashion ; his sinewy

arms were bare,and his hands rested on his knees. On his short

round body he wore a close covering,ornamented with small slashes ;

and a short cloak dangled on his back ; the collar was cut into curi

ous peaks,which served the goblin in l ieu of m l? or neckerch ief;

and his shoes curled up at the toes into long points. On his head

he wore a broad - brimmed sugar- loaf hat,garnished with a single

feather. The hat was covered with the white frost,and the gobl in

looked as if he had sat on the same tombstone very comfortably for

two or three hundred years. He was s i tt ing perfectly still ; histongue was put ou t

,as if in deris ion ; and he was grinning at

Gabriel Grub wi th such a grin as only a gobl in could call up.“ It was not the echoes

,sai d the goblin.

Gabriel Grub was paralyzed,and could make no reply.

“ What do y ou do here on Christmas eve 7"said the gobl in

s ternly.“ I came to dig a grave

,sir

,stammered Gabriel Grub.

“ What man wanders among graves and churchyards,on such a

nigh t as th is ? " sai d the goblin.

“ Gabriel Grub l Gabriel Grub l screamed a wild chorus of voices

that seemed to fi ll the churchyard. Gabriel looked fearfully roundnothing was to be seen.

What have y ou got in that bottle ? said the goblin.

Hollands,s ir

,

" replied the sexton,t rembl ing more than ever ;

for he had bough t i t of the smugglers,and he thought that perhaps

his ques t ioner m igh t be in the excise department of the goblins.“ Who drinks Hollands in a churchyard

,on such a night as this ?

said the goblin.

“ Gabriel Grub l Gabriel Grub l exclaimed the wild voices again.

The goblin leered mal iciously at the terrified sex ton ; and then,

raising his voice,exclaimed

“ And who,then

,is our fai r and lawful prize ?


To this inquiry,the invisible chorus replied, in a strain that

sounded like the voices of many choris ters s inging to the m ighty

swell of the old church organ—a strain that seemed borne to the

sex ton’s ears upon a gentle wind, and to d ie away as i ts soft breath

passed onward ; but the burden of the reply was st il l the same,

Gabriel Grub l Gabriel Grub lThe gobl in grinned a broader grin than before, as he said, Well,Gabriel

,what do y ou say to th is ?

The sexton gasped for breath.“ It

’

s—i t’s—very curious, sir, very curious, and very pretty ;but I think I’ll go back and finish my work sir

,if y ou please.

"

Work l said the goblin,what work ?

The grave,s ir : making the grave

,

"stammered the sexton.

“ Oh,the grave

,eh ? said the gobl in “ who makes graves at a

t ime when all o ther men are merry,and takes a pleasure in i t 7"

Again the mysterious vo ices replied,“ Gabriel Grub l Gabriel

Grub lI’

m afrai d my friends want y ou, Gabriel,"I'm afrai d m y friends

want y ou.

”

“ Under favor,

sir,

” “ I don't th ink they can

,sir ; they don

’t

know me,sir ; I don

'

t think the gentlemen have ever seen me,sir.

Oh, y es they have.

“ We know the man with the sulky face

and the grim scowl that came down the street to - nigh t,throwing

his evil looks at the chi ldren,and grasping his burying- spade the

t igh ter. We know the man that s truck the boy , in the enviousmalice of his heart

,because the boy could be merry

,and he could

no t. We know him we know him.

"

I— I am afraid I must leave y ou, sir.

”

“ Leave us l Gabriel Grub go ing to leave us . Ho l ho l ho l

As the gobl in laughed,the sexton observed for one instant a

brilliant i llum inat ion within the windows of the“

church,as if the

whole building were l igh ted up ; i t disappeared, the organ pealedforth a l ively air, and whole troops of gobl ins, the very counterpartof the first one, poured into the churchyard, and began playing at

leap- frog with the tombstones,never stopping for an instant to take

breath,but overing the highest among them

,one after the other

,

wi th the most marvelous dexteri ty. The first goblin was a most.

astonishing leaper,and none of the others could come near him.

326 EXERCISES IN ELoc mN.

As the goblin sai d this,a thick cloud, which obscured the further

end of the cavern,rol led gradually away

,and disclosed, apparent ly

at a great distance,a smal l and scant i ly- furnished, but neat and

clean apartment . A crowd of lit tle ch ildren were gathered round

a bright fire,clinging to thei r mother’s gown, and gamboling round

her chair. The mother occasional ly rose, and drew as ide the w in

dew - curtain,as if to look for some expected object. A frugal meal

was ready spread upon the table,and an elbow- chai r was placed

near the fire. A knock was heard at the door ; the mother opened

i t,and the children crowded round her, and clapped thei r hands for

joy , as thei r father entered. He was wet and weary,and shook

the snow from his garments,as the chi ldren crowded round him

,

and,seizing his cloak

,hat

,st ick and gloves, wi th busy zeal, ran

wi th them from the room. Then,as he sat down to his meal before

the fi re,the children climbed about his knee

,and the mo ther sat by

his s ide,and all seemed happiness and comfort.

But a change came upon the view,almost impercept ibly. The

scene was al tered to a smal l bedroom,where the fai rest and young

est chi ld lay dying ; the roses had fled from his cheek,and the l ight

from his ey e ; and even as the sexton looked upon him,with an

interest he had never felt o r known before,he died. His young

brothers and sisters crowded round his l i ttle bed,and se ized his

t iny hand,so cold and heavy ; but they shrank back from i ts touch

,

and looked with awe on h is infant face ; for calm and t ranquil as i twas

,and sleeping in rest and peace

,as the beaut iful child seemed to

be,they saw that he was dead

,and they knew that he was an

angel, looking down upon them,and bless ing them

,from a brigh t

and happy heaven.

Again the l ight cloud passed across the picture,and again the

subiect changed. The father and mother were old and helplessnew,

and the number of those abou t them was dim inished morethan half; but content and cheerfulness sat on every face

,and

beamed in every ey e, as they crowded round the fires ide,and told

and l istened to old s tories of earl ier and bygone days. S lowly and

peacefully the father sank into the grave, and, soon after,the sharer

of all his cares and t roubles followed him to a place of rest and

peace. The few who y et survived them knelt by thei r tomb,and

watered the green turfwhich covered i t wi th thei r tears ; then rose,

EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION. 327

and turned away, sadly and mournfully,but not wi th bit ter cries,

or despai ring lamentat ions, for they knew that they should one daymeet again and once more they m ixed w i th the busy world

,and

thei r content and cheerfulness were restored. The cloud settledupon the picture

,and concealed i t from the sex ton’s view.

“ What do y ou think of that ? said the gobl in,turning his large

face toward Gabriel Grub.Gabriel murmured out something about i ts being very pretty

,

and looked somewhat ashamed,as the gobl in bent his fiery eyes

upon him .

You a m iserable man ! said the goblin,in a tone of excess i ve

contempt. “ You l ” He appeared disposed to add more,but in

dignat ion choked his utterance ; so he l ifted up one of his very

pl iable legs,and

,flourishing i t above his head a l i ttle

,to insure his

aim, administered a good sound kick to Gabriel Grub ; immediately

after which,all the goblins- ia -wai t ing crowded round the wretched

sexton,and kicked him without mercy

,according to the es tablished

and invariable custom of court iers upon earth,who kick whom roy

alty kicks,and hug whom royalty hugs.

“ Show him some more,

”said the king of the goblins.

At these words the cloud was again dispelled,and a rich and

beaut iful landscape was disclosed to view. The sun shone from out

the clear blue sky , the water sparkled beneath his rays,and the

trees looked greener, and the flowers more gay , beneath his cheer

ful influence. The water rippled on, with a pleasant sound, the treesrustled in the l ight wind that murmured among the ir leaves

,the

birds sang upon the boughs, and the lark caroled on h igh her wel

come to the morning. Yes,i t was morning, the brigh t, balmy

morning of summer ; the m inutest leaf, the smallest blade of grass,was instinct wi th life. Man walked forth, elated with the scene ;and all was brigh tness and splendor.

You a m iserable mau l said the king of the goblins, in a more

contemptuous tone than before. And again the king of the gobl ins

gave his leg a flourish ; again i t descended on the shoulders of the

sexton ; and again the at tendant gobl ins imi tated the example of

thei r ch ief.Many a t ime the cloud went and came

,and many a lesson i t

taught to Gabriel Grub, who, al though his shoulders smarted wi th


pain from the frequent appl icat ions of the goblin's feet thereunto,looked on wi th an interest which noth ing could diminish. He saw

that men who worked hard, and earned their scanty bread wi thl ives of labor, were cheerful and happy ; and that to the most igno

rant,the sweet face of nature was a never- failing source of cheerful

ness and joy . Above all,he saw that men like himself, who snarled

at the m irth and cheerfulness of others, were the foulest weeds on

the fair surface of the earth ; and, set t ing all the good of the worldagainst the evil, he came to the conclus ion that i t was a very decenand respectable sort of a world after all. No sooner had he formed

i t,than the cloud which had closed over the last picture, seemed to

settle on his senses, and lull him to repose. One by one the gob

l ins faded from his s ight, and as the last one di sappeared, he sank

to sleep.The day had broken when Gabriel Grub awoke, and found him

self lying at full length on the flat graves tone in the churchyard,

wi th the wicker bottle ly ing empty by his s ide, and his coat, spade,and lantern, well whitened by the las t night

’s frost

,scattered on the

ground. The stone on wh ich he had first seen the goblin seated,

s tood bolt upright before him ,and the grave at whi ch he had worked

the night before, was not far ofi’

. A t first he began to doubt the

real i ty of his adventures ; but the acute pain in his shoulders,when

he attempte d to rise , assured him that the kicking of the goblinswas certainly not ideal. He was s taggered again

,by observing no

t races of footsteps in the snow on which the goblins had played at

leap-frog with the gravestones ; but he speedily accounted for thiscircumstance when he remembered that, being spi ri ts, they would

leave no visible impression behind them. So Gabriel Grub got on

his feet aswell as he could for the pain in his back ; and brush ingthe frost off his coat, put i t on, and turned his face toward the town.

But he was an altered man,and he could not bear the thought

of returning to a place where his repentance would be scoffed at,

and his reformation d isbel ieved. He hes itated.for a few moments ;

and then turned away to wander where he m ight,and seek his

bread elsewhere.The lantern, the spade and the wicker bottle

,were found that

day in the churchyard. There were a great many speculations aboutthe sexton's fate at first, but i t was speedi ly determined that he had


Now Dora felt her uncle’s will in all,

And yearned toward Wi ll iam but the youth, because

He had been always wi th her in the house,Thought not of Dora.

Then there came a day

When Allan called his son, and said,“ My son,

I married late,but I would wish to see

My grandchi ld on my knees before I die ;And I have set my heart upon a match.

Now,therefore

,look to Dora ; she is wel l

To look to ; thrifty too beyond her age.

She is my brother’

s daughter ; he and I

Had once hard words,and parted , and he died

In foreign lands ; but for his sake I bred

His daughter Dora : take her for your wife ;For I

’ have wished this marriage,night and day ,

For many years.

"

But William answered short“ I cannot marry Dora ; by my l ife,I will not marry Dora.

" Then the old man

Was wroth,and doubled up his hands, and said

“ You will not,boy i y ou dare to answer thus l

But in my t ime a father’s word was law,

And so i t shall be now for me. Look to '

t ;

Cons ider, Will iam : take a month to think,

And let me have an answer to my wish

Or,by the Lord that made me, y ou shall pack

,

And never more darken my doors again !

But Will iam answered madly ; bi t his l ips,And broke away. The more he looked at her

,

The less he l iked her ; and his ways were harsh ;But Dora bore them meekly. Then beforeThe month was out

,he left his father’s house

,

And hired himself to work wi thin the fields ;And half in love, half spi te, he wooed and wedA laborer’s daughter

,Mary Morrison.


Then, when the bel ls were ringing, Allan called

H is niece and said : My girl,I love y ou well ;

But if y ou speak with him that was my son,

Or change a word wi th her he calls his wife,

My home is none of yours. My will is law.

And Dora prom ised,being meek. She though t

It can not be ; my uncle’s m ind w ill change !

And days went on,and there was born a boy

To Wi lliam then distresses came on him ;And day by day he passed his father

'

s gate,Heart - broken

,and his father helped him not.

But Dora stored what li ttle she could save,

And sent i t to them by s teal th,nor did they know

Who sent i t ; t ill at last a fever seizedOn Wi ll iam

,and in harvest t ime he died.

Then Dora went to Mary. Mary satAnd looked wi th tears upon her boy , and thoughtHard th ings of Dora. Dora came and said“ I have obeyed my uncle unt il now,

And I have sinned, for i t was all through meThis evil came on Will iam at the first.

But, Mary , for the sake of him that 's gone,And for your sake, the woman that he chose,And for this orphan, I am come to y ou.

You know there has not been for these five years

So full a harvest : let me take the boy ,And I will set him in my uncle

'

s ey e

Among the wheat ; that when his heart is gladOf the full harvest, he may see the boy ,

And bless him for the sake of him that ’s gone.

And Dora took the ch ild, and went her wayAcross the wheat, and sat upon a mound

That was unsown, where many poppies grew.

Far off the farmer came into the fieldAnd spied her not ; for none of all his men

Dare te ll him Dora waited with the child ;And Dora would have risen and gone to him,

But her heart failed her ; and the reapers reaped,And the sun fell, and all the land was dark.

33 1

832 EXERCISES IN ELOC’U’

TION .

But when the morrow came, she rose and took

The child once more, and sat upon the mound ;And made a l itt le wreath of all the flowers

That grew about,and t ied i t on his hat

To make him pleas ing in her uncle'

s ey e.

Then,when the farmer passed into the field,

He spied her, and he left his men at work,And came and sai d

,Where were y ou yesterday

Whose chi ld is that 7 What are y ou doing here 7

So Dora cast her eyes upon the ground,And answered soft ly, “ This is William'

s child !

And did I not, sai d Allan,did I not

Forbid y ou, Dora ?" Dora sai d again :

Do wi th me as y ou will, but take the chi ldAnd bless him for the sake of him that 's gone i

And Allan said,I see it is a t rick

Got up betwixt y ou and the woman there.I must be taugh t my duty , and by you lYou knew my word was law,

and y et y ou dared

To sl ight it. Well,

for I wil l take the boy ;But go y ou hence, and never see me more.

"

So saying, he took the boy , that cried aloudAnd struggled hard. The wreath of flowers fellAt Dora’s feet. She bowed upon her hands

,

And the boy's cry came to her from the field,

More and more distant. She bowed down her head,

Remembering the day when first she came,

And all the things that had been. She bowed downAnd wept in secret ; and the reapers reaped,And the sun fell

,and all the land was dark.

Then Dora went to Mary’s house,and stood

Upon the threshold. Mary saw the boyWas not w i th Dora. She broke out in prai seTo God, that helped her in her widowhood.And Dora sai d

,My uncle took the boy ;

But, Mary, let me l i ve and work with y ou ;

He says that he will never see me more.

”

334 EXERUISE’

S IN ELOCUTION

So Mary said,and Dora hid her face

By Mary. There was s ilence in the room ;And all at once the old man burst in sobs :“ I have been to blame—to blam e ! I have killed myI have ki lled him

,— but I loved him ,

—my dear son !

May God forg ive me ! I have been to blame.

Kiss me,my chi ldren !

Then they clung aboutThe old man

'

s neck,and kissed him many t imes.

And all the man was broken wi th remorse ;And all his love came back a hundred - foldAnd for three hours he sobbed o’

erWill iam ’s ch i ld

,

Thinking of Will iam . So those four abodeWithin one house toge ther ; and as yearsWent forward

,Mary took ano ther mate ;

But Dora lived unmarried t ill her death.fl ung/son.

Revelations ofWall-street .I t proved to be a nigh t of adventure.

I had four avenues to traverse, and the storm com ing from the

north—east, drove violent ly in my teeth . I bu ttoned my overcoat

about my ears,sett led my hat close over my face, and present ing

my head combat ively to the tempest , I pushed on. I had in this

way crossed from the Eigh th to the S ixth Avenue,scarce ly con

scious of the progress made,when I st ruck against an object in the

m iddle of the side-walk,and was saluted by the exclamat ion

“ S top l ”

Whatever alarm I experienced was immediately dissipated whenI raised my head and got s igh t of the person who stood in myway . It was a girl

,bare- headed

,wi thout cloak or shawl ; perhaps

s ixteen years old.

Before I could quest ion her,she exclaimed : ‘Mother is dy ing.

Won’t y ou come, quick ?

’

Wi thou t a word being sai d,for she hurried

.

me on too rapidly for

conversat ion,I fol lowed down the avenue to the next street

,and

turning into i t,went perhaps half a block, when my companion

entered a two—story wooden house,and ran rapidly up the stai rs to


the front- room. Here on a bed lay a woman moaning and gaspingand exhibi t ing symptoms resembling epilepsy.

‘Do n'

t be frightetxed,’ I said

,your mother is not dying—is not

going to die.

’

‘Are y ou sure of that ? ’ said the girl.Something in the sound of her voice st range and s tartling—a

masculine v igor, coupled wi th an extraordinary maturi ty,caused me

to turn and regard her. Large black eyes were fixed on mewi tha firm bu t unsat isfied look, as if they would say :

‘Do not amuseme : I am no ch ild. Tell me the t ruth.’

To these imaginary observat ions,rather than to the direct ques

t ion, I repl ied :

‘ I repeat, your mothe r is not dying, but evidentlyhas had a fi t of some kind. Is she subject to such attacks ?

‘No !

She looked at me almost defiantly.I was at a loss what to say or do when I was rel ieved by hearing

the poor woman,who had regained her consc iousness

,exclaim

,

‘Mat ilda.’

Mat ilda, w ith ent ire composure,went to the bed- side of her

mother,who asked what was the matter.

I replied that I bel ieved she had been taken suddenly ill,and her

daugh ter in alarm ran out for aid and met me.

‘And now that I

am here,

’ I cont inued,I shal l be happy if I can do any thing to

rel ieve y ou.

’

‘Give the gentleman a chai r, my daugh ter,’said the s ick woman

,

for although I had shaken the snow from my hat and coat, I wasst ill s tanding.

The daugh ter obeyed, and I sat down. Meanwhile I had glanced

about the room and taken a closer look at i ts inmates. The appear

ance was that of bi ting poverty without squal idness ormisery. The

gi rl was very handsome and well formed, but exhibited in her de

meanor no softness—indeed, l i t t le that was fem inine. When I sat

down,she seated herself at the w indow and looked ou t on the

storm . There was something in the express ion of her face which

brought back some old associat ion, but what I could not tell. The

mother was evidently a lady and possessed of natural refinement

and delicacy. She explained to me that she had been very closelyat work all day with the needle

,and as she was gett ing into bed

15


she had been seized in a most alarming manner, and was for the

t ime insens ible. When she recovered she saw me standing over

her.

It was the old tale of desti tution, hard work, and a final breaking down of a naturally strong cons t itu t ion. Yes

,the fam i liar

story,so much so that the novel- reader who has persevered thus

far,in the bel ief that some extraordinary incident would y et turn

up, will exclaim :‘Pshaw ! how very stale and common- place this

meet ing a gi rl in the st reet and being conducted up a pair of stai rs

to a s ick- room,and so—forth and so - forth.

’To be sure

,all this is

very common - would i t were otherwise,but God perm i ts one class

of his creatures to fare sumptuously every day , while another class

starves, and the mystery of this w e may not undertake to fathom.

The poo r lady seemed so nearly recovered that there was nothing

to be done for her. I asked if I could render her any ass istance,

and i f she was suffering from any press ing want. She sai d she wasno t

,and regret ted that I should be taken out of my w ay .

There was no reason.why I should stay longer, y et I felt irres is

t ibly impelled to speak to the young gi rl,who maintained her seat

by the window,looking fixedly ou t of i t. I rose to depart. Then

I said,turning to her

‘You see I was righ t,your mo ther w ill be qui te well by morning.’

She assen ted by a nod.

‘Where were y ou go ing when I met y ou I asked.

‘ I though t mother was dy ing,and I started to find somebody to

come to her. I did not dare stay tosee her die.

’ And she lookedagain with that expression which had touched me

,and which called

up a strange feeling,l ike the memory of a half- forgotten dream .

‘ I think I must call and see y ou to- morrow,

’ I said to the lady,

‘for we are in the m idst of a heavy storm. I res ide not far fromhere, and I shall see if I can

’t be of some use to y ou. Pray

,may I

inqui re your name ? ’

‘Mrs. Hitchcock.

’

‘And your husband ?Has been dead for a long t ime.

’

He was

‘A physician ; Dr. Ralph Hi tchcock.

’

‘Who graduated at Yale College,thirty years ago ?


The Romance and the Reality of the Law.

Among the learned or l iberal professions, the one that oftenest

tempts and dazzles the youthful m ind is that of the law.

This fact has i ts reason, and is suscept ible of explanat ion.

The profession of the law is venerable for i ts ant iqui ty, rich in

the illustrious names which adorn i ts h is tory, and unequaled for the

aggregate of talent and eloquence which have in all ages character

ized i ts leading members.

Far back in the dim vista of the past, the fancy of the legalthusiast may behold the commanding form of the inspired Cicero,his toga falling gracefully abou t him

,his ey e glowing wi th patheti c

emot ion, as he s tands there on the Roman forum pleading the cause

of his early friend and tutor, the poet Archius.

I t must be with no small degree of pride that the advocate thus

traces his professional l ineage back to the greatest orator of ancientt imes.

There is a k ind of ancestral congratulat ion that he,too

,l ike

C icero, is empowered to use his country’s laws,when occas ion t e

quires,to defend the innocent and rel ieve the Oppressed.

Then again there is romance connected wi th the pract ice of the

law. Should every lawyer of long experience keep a journal,

wherein he m ight detai l the stories of all his clients,the i r strange

grievances,the ir complicated afi

‘

airs,and confident ial disclosures

,i t

would form a book only surpassed for variety and novelty by the

famous Arabian N ights.

’

The amount of heart- h istory wi th which he becomes acquainted

seems strangely in contrast with the lack of sent iment for which

his character i s so generally “

noted. He becomes fam i l iar w ith

domest ic d ifficult ies, disappointed affect ions, atrocious crimes,and

daring schemes ; and finds out more of the inner l ife of humanity

than can be discovered from any other stand- po int in society. His

council- room is a kind of secular confess ional,where clients reveal

reluctant secrets,and tel l of pri vate wrongs. To him

,what the

world is accustomed to regard as fiction,consti tu tes the common

place facts of his legal pract ice.But in our country the more seductive phrase of the law is th i s

i t has ever been the natural avenue to pol itical preferment and jud iaial honors. Hence i t is that young men of fine ab il i ties and am


bit ions of d istinct ion, so frequently choose this p rofession as the

proper field whereon to meet the high endeavor and the glad success.’ And perhaps i t is sometimes a m isfortune that such a reasondecides them rather than a sense of any pecul iar fi tness for the calling which they so hast ily espouse. But of that hereafter.Lawyers, as a class

,are

,or were

,much respected and revered

,

exert ing as they do a very cont roll ing influence over society andaffairs . I know full wel l that novels and plays abound in a certainstereotyped character called an at torney

, who is made to do al l the

di rty work of the plot or story. He is represented usually as a

cadaverous- looking individual,wi th a swinish propensity to thrust

his nose into every one’s bus iness

,who is will ing to damn his

soul for a fee,and whose hear t is devoid of all sympathy for

suffering or d istress. The worst of all these human fiends is UriahHeep

,whose freckled

,hai ry hand

,w i th i ts cold clammy touch , so

often makes the reader shudder as he turns the pages of ‘David

COpperfield.’ Then there is Oily Gammon,

who figures in ‘Ten

Thousand a Year,

’

and whose qualities are very plainly suggested

by his name. And among the more recent types of this character,we have the Marks of Harriet Beecher S towe

,who, when asked

to do a small favor,or to perform a common act of poli teness wi th

out the tender of a fee,rolls out his eyes in wonderment, and to

explain his refusal drawls but : ‘Oh l I’

m a lawy er l’The muses

too have conspired against these poor, persecuted fellows ; and thereis extant a lit tle poem ,

called ‘Law versus Saw,

’in which a very

invidious comparison is sought to be made between a lawyer and

that small operator in the lumber business commonly known as a

sawyer. In usefulness and digni ty the poet confers the palm on the

vocat ion of the latter. The last verse sums up the whole matterthus

Thi s conclusion then I draw,

That no exerc i se of jaw.

Twi s t ing India- rubber law,

Is as goodAs the exerci se of pawOn the handle of a saw.

Sawing wood.

’

But these pictures of law - at torneys,found so frequently in l ight

l iterature,furnish the unknowing with a very erroneous estimate of

the average characte r of the legal profess ion. These seem ing caric

atures have had, and st ill have, originals in fact, but they are as

840 Elm s CISES IN ELOCUTION.

much hated and despised by the more respectable members of the

bar as by the world at large. Indeed, to a person of experience inlife, there need be no argument to prove that lawyers as a body arequite as honorable

,intell igent

,liberal and publ ic- spi ri ted as the

same number of men selected from any class which has a dist inct iveex istence.

Dear Grannie is with us no longer ;Her hai r

,that was whi te as the snow

,

Was parted one morning forever,

On her head lying soft and low ;Her hands left the Bible wide open,To tell us the road she had trod

,

Wi th waymarks l ike foots teps to tell usThe path she had gone up to God.

No wonderful learning had Grannie ;She knew not the path of the stars

,

Nor augh t of the comet’

s wide cycle,

Nor of Nebula’s dim cloudy bars ;But she knew how the wise men adoring,Saw a star in the Eas t long ago ;

She knew how the firs t Christmas anthemsCame down to the shepherds below.

She had her own test, I remember,For the people whoe’er they m ight be.

When we spoke of the strangers about usBut lately come over the sea ;Of “ Laura,

"and Lizzie

,

”and “ Jamie

,

"

'

And stately old “ Essellby Oakes,"

She listened and whispered i t soft ly ,My dear, are these friends meet in

’- folks 7

When our John went away to the city

With patrons, whom all the world knewTo be sober and honest great merchants

,

For Grannie this all would not do ;

342 EXERCISES IN EL ocvn ozv.

Dead 1 a let ter but yesterday told of his love !Another to-morrow the tale will repeat ;Outstripped by this thunderbolt flung from above,Scathing my heart as i t falls at my feet !

Funeral to-morrow.

Oh,terrible Telegraph ! srbtle and st ill !

Dart ing thy lightnings with pi t i less haste !

N o kind warning thunder no storm- boding thrill

But one fierce deadly flash,and the heart l ieth waste !

(“ Inform hzsfi

‘iendsf)Sarah E. Henshaw.

The Swan’s Nest.

Li tt le Ellie s i ts aloneMid the beeches of a meadow

,

By a stream - s ide,on the grass ;

And the t rees are showering down

Doubles of thei r leaves in shadow,

On her shining hair and face.

She has thrown her bonnet by ;And her feet she has been dippingIn the shal low water’s flow ;Now she holds them nakedly

In her hands,all sleek and dripping,

While she rocketh to and fro.

Li t tle Ellie s i ts alone ;And the sm ile she soft ly uses

,

Fills the si lence l ike a speechWhile she thinks what shall be done

,

And the sweetest pleasure chooses,

For her future wi thin her reach.

Lit t le Ell ie in her sm ileChooseth “ I will have a lover

,

Riding on a s teed of steeds !He shal l love me wi thout guile ;

And to him I wi l l d iscoverThe Swan’

s nest among the reeds.

E XERCIS ES IN E LOCUTION.

“ And the steed shall bered- roan,

And the lover shall'

be noble,

Wi th an ey e that takes the breath ;And the lute he plays upon

Shall strike ladies into trouble,

As his sword strikes men to death.

“ And the'

steed i t shall be shodAll in si lver

,housed in azure

,

And the mane shall swim the wind

And the hoofs along the sodShall flash onward and keep measure

,

Till the shepherds look behind.

‘But my lover will not prizeAll the glory that he rides in

,

When he gazes in my face.He will say ,

‘0 Love,th ine eyes

Build the shrine my soul abides in ;And I kneel here for thy grace.

’

Then,ay ! then he shal l kneel low,

Wi th the red- roan steed anear him,

Whi ch shall seem to unders tand

T ill I answer, Rise and go !

For the world must love and fear him

Whom I gift wi th heart and hand.’

Then he wi ll arise so pale,

I shall feel my own li ps trembleWi th a y es I must not sayNathless maiden brave, Farewell,

’

I will ut ter and dissembleLigh t to -morrow with to-day .

’

Then he ’ll ride among the hills

To the w ide world past the river,There to put away all wrong :

To make s traight d istorted wills,And to empty the broad ‘quiverWhich the wicked bear along.1 5*

348

344 EXERCISES IN ELOC'UTION .

“ Three times shall a young foot - page

Swim the s tream and climb the mountain

And kneel down bes ide my feet

Lo ! my master sends this gage,Lady

,for thy pity

's count ing !

What wilt thou exchange for i t

And the first t ime I will sendA white rosebud for a guerdon

And the second t ime a glove

But the third t ime I may bend

From my pride, and answer ‘Pardon

If he comes to take my love.

’

Then the young foot- page wi ll runThen my lover will ride fas ter,Till he kueeleth at my knee‘ I am a duke's eldest son !

Thousand serfs do call me master,

But, 0 Love, I love but thee l

He will kiss me on the mou th

Then ; and lead me as a lover,Through the crowds that praise his deedsAnd

,when soul- t ied by one troth

,

Umto him I will d iscoverThat swan’s nest among the reeds.

Li ttle Ell ie,wi th her smile

Not y et ended, rose up gayly,Tied the bonnet

,donned the shoe

And went homeward,round a m i le,

Just to see, as she did daily,What more eggs were wi th the two.

Pushing through the elm- tree copseWinding by the stream

,l igh t - hearted

,

Where the ozier pathway leadsPast the boughs she s toops and stops !

Lo ! the wild swan had deserted,

And a rat had gnawed the reeds.

846 EXERCISES IN ELooUTION.

Jump far out, boy , into the wave l

Jump or I fire ! he said ;“ That only chance thy l ife can save !

Jump l jump, boy ! he obeyed.

-He sunk, he rose,

he l ived,

he moved,And for the ship struck out

On board, we hai led the lad beloved,Wi th many a manly shout.

His father drew,in s i lent joy ,

Those wet arms round his neck,Then folded to his heart his boy ,And fainted on the deck.

0. P Morr i s.

Prom Rose Clark.‘For mercy

'

s sake,what are y ou thinking about ? ’ asked Dol ly,

‘wi th that curious look in your eyes, and the color com ing and

going in your face that way ?’

‘ I was thinking,’said the chi ld

,her eyes st i ll fixed on the silver

lake,

‘how beaut iful God made the earth,and how sad i t was there

should be‘What

,now ?

’asked Dolly tartly.

‘Any sorrow in i t ,’sai d Rose.

The earth is well enough,I s’pose

,

’sai d Dolly. I never looked

at it much ; and as to the rest of vour remark I hope y ou wil l

remember i t when y ou get home,and not plague my l ife out when

I want y ou to work. Let’s see : y ou will have the shop to sweep

out,the window- shutters to take down and put up night and morn

ing, errands to run,sewing

,washing

,i roning

,and scrubbing to dc

,

dishes to wash, bes ides a few other lit tle things.‘Of course, y ou will have

-your own clothes to make and to mend,

the sheets and towels to hem,and be learning

,meanwhile

,to wai t

on customers in the shop ; I shan’

t trust y ouwith the money - drawer

t ill I know whether y ou are honest .’

Rose’

s face became crimson, and she involuntari ly moved furth eraway from Dolly.


‘None of that,now

,

’said that lady ;

‘such ai rs won'

t go down

wi th me. I t is a pi ty if I can’

t speak to my own sister’s child.’

Rose thought this was the only l igh t in which she was l ikely to

v iew the relat ionship ; but she was too wise to reply.

‘There's no knowing,

’sai d Dolly 'what y ou may have learned

among those chi ldren at the asylum .

’

‘You put me there, Aunt Dolly,’sai d Rose.

‘Of course I put y ou there ; but did I tell y ou to learn all the bad

things y ou saw ?’

‘You did n’t tell me not ; but'I never would take what belonged

to another.’

‘Shu t up now y ou are just l ike your mother, ex - actly .

’And

Dol ly stepped here, considering that she would go no further in theway of invective.

si s:

‘Aunt Dolly,

’said Rose

,tim idly

,about a month after the events

above related,

‘Aunt Dolly and here Rose stopped short.‘Out with i t,

’

said Dolly,‘ if you’ve got any thing to say . You

make me as nervous as an eel,twist ing that apron- string, and Aunt

Dolly- ing such an eterni ty : if y ou have got any thing to say , out

wi th i t.’

‘May I go to the evening- school ? ’ asked Rose.

‘It is a free

school.’

‘Well, y ou are not free to go, if i t is ; y ou know how to read

and wri te,and I have taugh t y ou how tomake change pret ty wel l

that is all y ou need for my purposes.’

‘But I should l ike to learn other things, Aunt Dolly.

’

What other things,I’d like to know ? That's your mother all

over. She never was content wi thout a book at the end of her

nose. She could n'

t have earned her living to have saved her l ife,if she had n

’t got married.

’

‘It was part ly to earn my l i ving I wanted to learn, Aunt Dollyperhaps I could be a teacher.’

‘Too grand to trim caps and bonnets,l ike your Aunt Dolly, I

suppose,’added she, sneeringly

‘ i t is qui te beneath a chari ty- orphan,I suppose.

’

No,

’sai d Rose ‘but I should l ike to teach bet ter.’

‘Well, y ou won t do it never, no t ime. So there’s all there is

348 .EXERCISE’S IN ELOCUTION .

to that : now take that ribbon,and make the bows to old Mrs.

Gridi n’a cap . The idea of want ing to be a school- teacher when

y ou have i t at your fingers’ends to twist up a ribbon so easy—i t

is ridikil is l Did Miss Snow come here last nigh t, after I went out,for her bonnet ?

’

Yes,

’answered Rose.

‘Did y ou tell her i t was all finished but the cap-fri ll ? ’ asked

Dolly.‘N0 ; because I knew that i t was not y et begun, and I could not

tell a a

‘Lie l I suppose,’screamed Dolly, pu tt ing her face very close to

Rose’s,as if to defy her to say the obnoxious word ;

‘ is that i t 7’

Yes,’said Rose

,courageously.

‘Good girl l good girl !’

sai d Dolly ;‘shall have a medal,

"

s o it

shall ; and cut t ing s large oval out of a bi t of pasteboard, and pass

ing a twine string through i t,she hung i t round her neck : ‘Good

l ittle Rosy-Posy just l ike i ts conscient ious mamma l‘I wish I were half as good as my mamma,

’

said Rose, with a

trembling voice.‘ I suppose y ou think that Aunt Dolly is a great sinner l ’ sai d

that lady .

We are all great sinners,are we not ?

’answered Rose.

‘All but li ttle Rosy-Posy,

’sneered Dolly : ‘

she is perfect—onlyneeds a pai r of wings to take her straight up to heaven.

’

Fanny Fem .

From theAmeri canNote-books.

An art icle to be made of tell ing the stories of the t iles of an old

fashioned chimney- piece to a chi ld.

A person conscious that he was soon to die,the humor in which

he would pay his last visi t to fam i l iar persons and things.

A description of the various classes of hotels and taverns,and

the prominent personages in each. There shou ld be some storyconnected with i t, —as of a person commencing with boarding ata great hotel, and gradually, as his means grow less, descending inlife, t ill he got below ground into a cellar.


A company of men,none of whom have anything worth hoping

for on earth, y et who do not look forward to any thing bey ond

earth !

Sorrow to be personified,and i ts effect on a fami ly represented

by the way in which the members of the fam i ly regard this dark

clad and sad- browed inmate.

A story to show how we are all wronged and wrongers, and

avenge one another.

'I‘o personify winds of various characters.

A man l i ving a wicked life in one place, and simultaneously avi rtuous and rel igious one in another.

An ornament to be worn about the person of a lady,—as a jew

clled heart. Afte r many years, i t happens to be broken or uh

screwed,and a poisonous odor comes ou t.

A company of persons to drink a certain medicinal preparation,which would prove a poison

,or the contrary

,according to their

different charac ters.

Many persons,wi thout a consciousness of so doing

,to contribute

to some one end ; as to a beggar’s feas t,made up of broken victuals

from many tables ; or a patch carpet , woven of shreds from innu

merable garments.

Some very famous jewel or other thing,much talked of all over

the wo rld. Some person to meet wi th i t,and get possession of i t

in some unexpected manner,amid homely ci rcumstances.

A cloud in the shape of an old woman kneeling,wi th arms ex

tended toward the moon.

On being t ransported to strange scenes,we feel as if all were

unreal. This is but the percept ion of the t rue unreal i ty of earthlythings

,made evident by the want of congru ity between ourselves

and them. By and by we become mutually adapted, and the per

ception is lost.

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION. 35 1

An old looking-

glass. Somebody finds out the secret of making

all the images that have been reflected in i t pass back again acrossi ts surface.

Our Indian races having reared no monuments,l ike the Greeks,

Romans and Egypt ians, when they have disappeared from the earth

thei r history will appear a fable,and they m isty phantoms.

A woman to sympathize with all emot ions,but to have none of

her own.

A letter,wri tten a century or more ago, but which has never y et

been unsealed.

A dreadful secret to be communicated to several people of vari

ous characters,

“ grave or gay ,—and they al l to become insane

,

according to thei r characters,by the influence of the secret.

S tories to be told of a certain person's appearance in publ ic. of

his having been seen in various s i tuat ions,and of his making visi ts

in private ci rcles ; but finally,on looking for this person

,to come

upon his old grave and mossy tombstone.

The influence of a peculiar m ind,in close communion wi th nu

other,to drive the latter to insani ty.

To look at a beaut iful girl, and picture all the lovers,in different

situations,whose hearts are centered upon her.

Nathaniel Hawthorne.V

Invocation to Light .

0 holy l igh t ! thou art old as the look of God,and eternal as

His word. The ange ls were rocked in thy lap, and thei r infant

smiles were brigh tened by thee. Creat ion is in thy memory. By

thy torch the throne of Jehovah was set,and thy hand burnished

the myriad s tars tha t gl i tter in His crown. Worlds new from His

omnipotent hand we re sprinkled with beams from thy baptismalfont. At thy golden urn

,pale Luna comes to fi ll her s ilver horn ;

Saturn bathes his sky- girt rings ; Jupi ter lights his waning moons,

and Venus dips her queenly robes anew. Thy fountains are


shoreless as the ocean of heavenly love, thy center is everywhere,and thy boundary no power has marked.

Thy beams gild the i ll im itable fields of space, and gladden the

farthest verge of the universe. The glories of the seventh heaven

are open to thy gaze, and thy glare is felt in the woes of lowest“ Erebus. The sealed books of heaven by thee are read, and

thine ey e, l ike the Infinite, canst pierce the dark ve i l of the future,and glance backward through the myst ic cycles of the past. Thy

touch gives the l i ly i ts whi teness, the rose i ts t int , and thy kindl ingray makes the diamond’s l ight. Thy beams are m igh ty as the

power that binds the spheres.

Thou canst change the sleety winds to soothing zephyrs ; and

thou canst melt the icy mountains of the poles to gent le rainsand dewy vapors.

The grani te rocks of the h ills are upturned by thee,volcanoes

burst,islands s ink and rise

,rivers rol l and oceans swell at thy

look of command. And oh l thou monarch of the skies,bend now

thy how of m i lli oned arrows and pierce,if thou canst

,this

darkness that thrice twelve moons has bound me.

Burst now th ine ‘

emerald gates,oh l Morn

,and let thy dawning

come.

Mine eyes rol l in vain to find thee,and my soul is weary of this

interm inable gloom . The pas t comes back robed in a pall whichmakes all things dark, and covers the fu ture with but a raylessn ight of years. My heart is the tomb of blighted hopes

,and all

the m isery of feel ings unemployed has set t led on me. I am

m isfortune’s child,and sorrow long s ince marked me for her own.

Mrs. S . H. DeKrow‘t.

354 EXERarses IN E LOCUTION.

Rich. Ha ! ha !

I have another bride for Barades iEnter FRA N

COIS .

.Fh'ancOis. Mademoiselle De Mortemar l

Rich. Most opportune—adm it her. [E'

m’

t Fau cets.

In my closetYou’ll find a rosary, Joseph ; ere y ou tellThree hundred beads, I

'll summon y ou.—S tay, Joseph ;

I did omi t an Ave in my mat ineA grievous fault ; atone i t for me, Joseph.

Enter J1mm DE Monrnus n.

Richelieu. That's my sweet Jul ie l why, upon th is face

Blushes such daybreak,one m igh t swear the morning

Were come to v isit Ti thon.

Julie (p lacing herself at his feet ) . Are y ou gracious ?May I say

“ Father ?

Rich. Now and ever !Julie. Father !A sweet word to an orphan.

Rich. No; not orphan

While Richel ieu l i ves ; thy father loved me well ;My friend

,ere I had flat terers (now I

’m great

,

In other phrase, I'

m friendless) — he died youngIn years

,not service

,and bequeathed thee to me ;

And thou shalt have a dowry , gi rl, to buy

Thy mate am id the mightiest. Drooping l - sighs ?Art thou not happy at the court ?Julie. Not often.

Rich. (aside) . Can she love Baradas ? Ah l at thy heartThere’s what can sm i le and s igh

,blush and grow pale

,

All in a breath ! Thou art adm ired art young ;Does not his Majesty commend thy beauty

Ask thee to sing to him - and swear such soundsHad smoothed the brow of Saul ?Julie. He

’s very t iresome

,

Our worthy King.Rich. Fie ! Kings are never ti resome

Save to their ministers. What court ly gallants

EXERCISES IN E LOCUTION . 355

Charm lad ies most De Sourdiac, Longueville, orThe favori te Baradas ?Julie. A sm i leless man

Fear and shun him.

Rich. Yet he courts thee lJulie. Then

He is more t i resome than his Majesty.Rich. Right, girl, shun Beredes. Yet of the flowersOf France, .not one

,in whose more honeyed breath

Thy heart hears summer whisper ?

Enter Hoover.

Huguet. The ChevalierDe Mauprat waits below.

Ju lie (starting up ) . De Mauprat !

Ri ch. Hem !

He hasbeen t i resome too l Anon HUGUET.Julie. What doth he ?I mean I Does your Eminence that isKnow y ou Mess i re de Mouprat ?

Rich. Well I and y ou

Has he addressed y ou often ?

Ju lie. Often ! No

N ine t imes : nay , ten ;—the las t t ime by the latt iceOf the great stai rcase. (In a melancholy tone.) The Court

sees him rarely.

Rich. A bold and forward royster !

Julie. He ? nay , modest ,Gentle and sad

,methinks.

Rich. Wears gold and azure ?

Julie. No ; sable.

Rich. So y ou note his colors, Jul ie

Shame on y ou, chi ld, look loft ier. By the mass,I have bus iness with th is modest gentleman.

Julie. You’re angry wi th poor Julie. There's no cause.

Rich. No cause—y ou hate my foes ?Julie. I do !

Rich. Hate Mauprat ?

Juli e. Not Mauprat. N0,not Adrien

,father.


Rich. Adrien l

Famil iar l— Go,ch ild ; no,—no t that way ; wait

In the tapestry chamber ; I will jo in y ou, go.

Ju lie. His brows are kni t ; I dare not call him father !

But I must speak. Your Em inence

Rich. (sternly ) . Well,girl !

Julie. Nay ,

Sm i le on me one sm ile more ; there, now I’m happy.

Do not rank Mauprat with your foes ; he is not,I know he is no t ; he loves France too well.Rich. Not rank De Mauprat wi th my foes ?

So be i t .

I’ll blot him from that list.Julie. That's my own father. Jnu n.

Rich. Huguet !

Enter Hoover.

De -Mauprat struggled not nor murmur’d ?

Huguet. No : proud and passi ve.

Rich. Bid h im enter. HoldLook that he hide no weapon. Humph, despairMakes vict ims somet imes victors. When he has enter’d

,

Glide round unseen ; place thyself yonder ; watch him ;If he show violence ( let m e see thy carbine ;So, a good weapon if he play the l ion

,

Why —the dog’s death.

B ri t HUGUET ; c nnnrnn sea ts himself at the table. Enter

MAUPRAT.

Rich. Approach,s ir. Can y ou call to m ind the hour,

Now three years s ince,when in this room

,methinks,

Your presence honored me ?De Maup rat. I t is, my lord ,

One of my most

Ric h. (dry ly ) . Del ightful recollect ions.De Maup. (aside) . S t Deni s l doth he make a jest of axe

and headsman ?

Rich. (sternly ) . I did then accord y ouA mercy ill requited l— y ou st ill li ve ?


You’re troublesome ! —Why this, forgi ve me,

Is what—when done wi th a less dainty gracePlain folks call The/l l

—You owe e igh t thousand pistolel ,Minus one crown

,two lairds l I tell y ou, S ir,

That y ou must pay your debts

DeMaap . Wi th all my heart,My Lord. Where shall I borrow, then, the money 7Rich. (ankle and laughing.) A humorous fel low,

The very man

To su it my purpose 4 ready, frank, and bold lAdrien de Mauprat, men have called me cruel ;I am not ; I am just I—I found France rent asunder,The rich men despots

,and the poor bandi tti

S loth in the mart,and schism wi thin the temple ;

Brawls festering to Rebell ion ; and weak LawsRott ing away wi th rust in an tique sheaths

I have re- created France ; and from the ashes

Of the old feudal and decrepid carcase,

Civilizat ion on her lum inous wingsSoars,—phoenix - like

,to Jove l What was my art ?

Genius,some say , some Fortune

,—Wi tchcraft

,some.

Not so ; my art was Jns'

rrcn l —Force and fraudMisnaine i t cruel ty—y ou shall confute them lMy champion YOU l - You met me as your foe.

Depart my friend—y ou shal l not die— France needs y ou.

You shall wipe off all stains, —be rich, be houor'

d,Be great -[Da Maura.“ falls on his knee Bronx-m an raises him ]

I ask,S ir, in return, this hand,

To gift i t with a bride, whose dowry shall match,Yet not exceed her beauty.DeMaup . I, my LordI have no wish to marry.Rich. Surely, S i r,

To die were worse.

DeMaup . Scarcely ; the poorest cowardMust die

,—but knowingly to march to marriage

My Lord,it asks the courage of a lion !

Ri ch. Trai tor,thou triflest wi th me I I know

Thou hast dared to love my ward—my charge.

Er anorszrs IN E LOCUTION. 359

De Maap . As riversMay love the sunlight basking in the beams

,

And hurry ing on !Rich. Thou has told her of thy love ?De Maup . My Lord

,if I had dared to love a maid

,

Lowliest in France,I would not so have wro

'

ng'

d her,

As bid her l ink rich life and virgin hopeWi th one, the deathman

’

s gripe m ight,from her side

,

Pluck at the nupt ial altar.Rich. I bel ieve thee ;

Yet since she knows not of thy love, renounce her ;Take life and fortune w i th another ! S ilent ?

De Maup . Your fai th has been one triumph. You know

How bless’d a thing it was in my dark hour

To nurse the one sweet tho'

ught y ou bid me banish.Love hath no need of words ;—nor less withinThat hol iest temple the heaven- builded soul

Breathes the recorded vow Base nigh t— false loverWere he

,who barter

’d all that brighten

'd grief

,

Or sanct ified despai r, for l ife and gold.Revoke your mercy ; I prefer the fate

I look’d for !

Ric h. Huguet to the tapest ry chamber

Conduct your prisoner.

(To Maura/tr.) You will there beholdThe executioner : your doom be private

And Heaven have mercy on y ou !

DeMaap . When I'm dead,Tell her

,I loved her.

Rich. Keep such follies, S ir,For fit ter ears ; go

DeMaap . Does he mock me ?

[Exeunt DE MAUPRATand Honest ]Rich. Joseph ,

Come forth.Enter Josspn.

Methinks your cheek has lost i ts rubiesI fear y ou have been too lavish of the flesh ;The scourge is heavy.

I 6

360 EXER CISES IN EL oom om

Joseph. Pray y ou, change the subject.Rich. You good men are so modest ! Well, to business

Go instantly deeds notaries l. bid my stewards

Arrange my house by the Luxembourg my house

No more l a bridal present to my ward,Who weds to-morrow.

Joseph. Weds,with whom ?

Ri ch. De Mauprat.

Joseph. Penni less husbandRic h. Bah ! the mate for beauty

Should be a man and not a money- chest !When her brave s ire lay on his bed of death,I vowed to be a father to his JulieAnd when he died the sm ile upon his l ipsAnd when I spared the l ife of her young lover,Methought I saw that smi le again ! Who else

,

Look y ou, in all the court who else so well,

Brave,or supplant the favorite balk the King

Bafii e thei r schemes I have tried him he has honorAnd courage ; qual it ies that eagle- plumeMen

’

s souls,

and fi t them for the fiercest sunWhich ever melted the weak waxen m indsThat flut ter in the beam s of gaudy Power !Joseph. And y et your foe.

Rich. Have I not foes enow ?Great men gain doubly when they make foes friends.Remember my grand maxims l First employAll methods to concil iate.Joseph. Fai ling theseRich. fiercely .) All means to crush ; as wi th the opening,

The clenching of this l ittle hand,I w il l

Crush the small venom of these stinging court iers.So, so, we

’ve baffled Baradas.Joseph. And when

Check the conspiracyRich. Check, check ! Full way to it.

Let i t bud,ripen, flaunt i

’the day , and burst

To fruit the Dead Sea’s fruit of ashes ; ashesWhich I will scat ter to the winds.

Go,Joseph.

862 Exarzarszrs IN ELOCUTION.

Enter Fas s coxs hasti ly , and in part disguised.

Rich. Quick the despatch ! Power Empire BOY

packet !

Francois . Kill me, my lord !

Rich. They knew thee they suspected

They gave i t notFrancois. He gave i t he the Count

De Baradas with his own hand gave i t.

Rich. Baradas ! Joy ! out with i t !

Francois. Listen,And then dism iss me to the headsman.

Rich. Ha !

Go on !

Francois. They led me to a chamber. There

Orleans and Baradas and some half- score,Whom I knew not were met

Rich. Not more !

Francois. But from

Th'

adjoining cham ber broke the din of voices,The clat tering t read of armed men at t imes

A shriller ory , that yel led out,“ Death to Richel ieu

Rich. Speak not of me ! thy country is in danger !Th’ adjoining room So, so a sep arate t reason !

The one thy ruin, France ! - the meaner crime,Left to thei r tools my murder !

Francois . Baradas

Questioned me close demurr’

d unt il,at last

,

O’

erruled by Orleans gave the packet told me

That l ife and death were in thescroll : This goldRich. Gold is no proof

Franco is And Orleans prom ised thousands,

When Bouillon’s trumpe ts in the s treets of ParisRang out the shrill answer : hastening from the houseMy foots tep in the sti rrup

,Marion stole

Across the threshold, whispering, Lose no moment

Ere Richelieu have the packet : te l l him,too

Murder is in the winds of N ight, and Orleans

Swears,ere the dawn the Cardinal shall be clay.

EXE‘RCISES IN ELOCUTIOv.

She said, and t rembling fled with in : when 10 !A hand of i ron griped me ! Thro’

the dark,

Gleam'

d the dim shadow of an armed man :

Ere I could draw, the prize was wreste d from me,And a hoarse voice gasp

’

d “ Spy , I spare thee, forThis steel is virgin to thy lord with thatHe vanish

’

d. Scared and trembling for thy safety,

I mounted,fled

,and

,kneel ing at thy feet,

Implore thee to acqu it my faith but not,

Like him,to spare my l ife.

Ri ch. Who spake of lifeI bade thee grasp that t reasure as thine honorA jewel worth whole hecatombs of li ves !Begone ! redeem th ine honor ! Back to MarionOr Baradas or Orleans track the robber

Regain the packet or crawl onto AgeAge and gray hairs l ike m ine and know thou hast lostThat which had made thee great and saved thy country.See me not ti ll thou’st bough t the right to seek me.

Away ! Nay , cheer thee ! thou hast not fail’

d y et

fhere'

s no such word as“

fail !

Francois. Bless y ou, my Lord,For that one sm ile ! I’ll wear i t in my heartTo l ight me back to triumph. (Ex it )Rich. The poor you th !

An elder had ask’d l ife ! I love the young !

For as great men l ive not in their own t imeBut the next race

, f so in the young my soulMakes many Richel ieus. He

!

will win it y et.Francois ? He

'

s gone. My murder ! Marion's warning !This bravo's threat ! 0 for the morrow'

s dawn !I’

ll set my spies to work —I 'Il make all space

(As does the sun) an Uni versal Ey e .

Huguet shall t rack Joseph confess ha ! ha

S trange,while I laugh

’

d I shudder’d,and ev

’n now

Thro’ the chill air the beat ing of my heartSounds l ike a

.

death -watch by a s ick man’s pillow ;

If Huguet cou ld dece i ve me hoofs wi thou t

The gates unclose steps, near and nearer !

363

EXERCISES IN Enoanfl ozv.

Fran. My LordBar. Ha, traitor !

In Paris st il l !Fran. The packet the despatch

Some knave play’

d spy wi thout, and reft it from me,Ere I could draw my sword.

Bar. Play'

d spy without]

Did he wear armor ?I ran. Ay e, from head to heel.Orleans. One of our band. Oh, heavens !Bar. Could i t be Mauprat ?Kept guard at the door knew naught of the despatch

How an?— and y et, who other ?Fran. Ha, De Mauprat !

The night was dark his valour closed.Bar'

.

’Twas be !

How could he guess ?—'sdeath l i f he should betray

His hate to Richelieu dies with Richelieu—and .

He was no t great enough for treason. Hence !Find Mauprat

—beg, steal, filch, or force i t back,Or, as I live, the halterIfi -an. By the morrowI will regain i t, (aside,) and redeem my honor !

[Exi t Fam oors.

Orleans. Oh ! we are lostBar. Not so ! But cause on cause

For Mauprat’s seizure si lence death ! Take courage.

Orleam . Should i t once reach the King,the Cardinal’s arm

Could sm ite us from the grave.Bar. S ir, think i t not !I hold De Mauprat in my grasp. To-morrow,And France is ours ! Thou dark and fallen Ange l,Whose name on earth’s AMBm ON thou that mak

'st

Thy throne on t reasons,stratagems, and murder

And with thy fierce and blood- red smile canst quenchThe guiding stars of solemn empire—hear us(For we are thine) - and l ight us to the goal !

Fran. All search, as y et, in vain forMauprat ! Not

At home s ince yesternoon— a soldier told me

366 EXER CISES IN Enocm ozv.

( To Francois.) Hence,S ir ! Draw !

Fran. Art mad ? the King’

s at hand ! leave him to Richel ieu !

Speak the despatch to whom (A few passes.)Fly 6y

The King !

De JlIaup . Fare y ou well !Save Jul ie

,and console her.

Fran. (asi de to Mauprat.) The DeSpatch !

Your fate,foes

,l ife

,hangs on a word ! to whom ?

De Maup . To Huguet.

Fran. Hush keep council ! s i lence—hope l

[Exeunt Manrna'r and Guard,

Bar. (as ide to Francois . ) Has he the packet ?

Fran. He will not reveal

(Aside ) Work,brain ! beat heart ! There

’

s no such word as fai l.”

Fran. O! my Lord !

Rich. Thou art bleeding !

Fran. A scratch I have not fail’d ! [gives thep acket.

Rich. Hush ! [looking at the contents.

Third Secretary , ( to KING.) S i re, the Spaniards

Have re inforced thei r army on the frontiers,The Due de Bouillon

Rich. Hold ! In this department

A paper here,S i re, read yourself then take

The Count’s advice in’t .

Enter DE Bsnmcnnn hasti ly , and draws as ide BARADAS.

(RICHELIEU, to Secretary , giving an open parchment. )

Bar. (bursting from DE BERiNGHEN.) What ! and reft it !thee l

Ha l hold !

Joseph. Fall back ; son, i t is your turn now

Bar. Death l— The Despatch !Louis . (reading) To Bouillon and sign

'd Orleans l

Baradas too— league wi th our foes of Spain !Lead our Ital ian armies—what ! to Paris !Capture the King—my health requires repose !

EXER CIS ES IN E l mer/Tram 367

Make me subscribe my proper abdicat ion !Orleans, my brother, Regent ! Saints of Heaven !These are the men I loved ! [Bananas draws,— atternp ts to rush

out,

is arres ted. ORLEANS,endeavoring to escap e morequickly ,

meets Josspfl'

s ey e, and stop s short.

Ricnn'

msu falls back.

Joseph. See to the Card inal !Bar. He

's dying ! and I y et shall dupe the King !

Louis . (rushing to c nnmsn.) Richel ieu !—Lord Cardinal ! ’tis

I res ign !

Reign thou !

Joseph. Alas l too late ! — he faints lLouis Re ign, Richel ieu !Rich. feebly .) Wi th absolute power ?Louis . Most absolu te ! Oh

,l ive !

If not for me— for France !Rich. FRANCE !

Lou is . Oh ! th is treason

The army Orleans—Boui llon—Heavens l the Spaniard !Where will they be nex t week !

Rich. (starting up .) There , at my feet !

(To Fi rst and Second Secretary .) Ere the clock strike The Eu

voy s have the i r answer !

(To Third Secretary , wi th a ring.) This to De Chavigny he knows

the rest

No need of parchment here he must not hal t

For sleep for food In my name,—MINE —he wi ll

Arrest the Due de Bou illon at the head

Of his army I—Ho l there,Count de Baradas

Thou hast lost the stake ! Away wi th him

Ha ! ha !

[Snatching Dr.MAnrRAr'

s death warrant from the Ofi cer.

See here, De Mauprat’

s death -writ, Julie l

Parchment for batt ledores Embrace your husband !

At last the old man blesses y ou !

Julie. 0 joy !

You are saved, y ou l i ve I hold y ou in these arms.

DeMaup . N ever to part16*

868 EXER CIS ES m E LOCUTION.

Julie. No never,Adrien never !

Louis . (peevishly ) One moment makes a startling cure, Lord Car

d inal.Rich. Ay , S i re, for in one moment there did pass

Into this wi ther'd frame the m ight of France !

My own dear France I have thee y et—I have saved theeI clasp thee st ill ! i t was thy vo ice that call

’d me

Back from the tomb ! What m ist ress like our country

Lou is. For Mauprat's pardon wel l ! But Jul ie, Richel ieu

Leave me one thing to love !

Rich. A subject’s luxury

Yet, if y ou must love something, S i re, love me ?

Louis. (smi ling in sp i te of himself.) Fai r proxy for a young fresh

Demo iselleRich. Your heart speaks for my clients kneel

,my children

,

And thank your King

Julie. Ah, tears l ike these, my l iege,Are dews that mount to Heaven.

Louis. Rise rise be happy.

[RICHELIEU bee/cons to DE Bsnmca .

De Ber. falteringly .) My Lord y ou aremost happi ly recover'd.Rich. But y ou are pale

,dear Beringhen this air

S ui ts not your delicate frame I long have thought so.

S leep not another night in Pari s Go,

Or else your precious life may be in danger.Leave France

,dear Beringhen ! [Ex it

(To ORLEANS .) For y ou, repentance—absence, and confess ion !

(To FRANCOIS.) N ever say fai l again. Brave Boy !

(To Lows, as Dr: MAUPRAT and JULm converse apart.)See

,my l iege see thro' plots and counterplots

Thro’ gain and loss thro' glory and disgraceAlong the plains

,where passionate Discord rears

Eternal Babel st i ll the holy st reamOf human happiness glides on !Louis. And must we

Thank for that also our prime m inister ?Ri ch. No let us own i t there is ONE above

Sways the harmonious mystery of the world

370 EXER0155 '

s m ELOCUTI ON .

“ Tak afl‘

y er bannet, bairn, an’let me see y our face ; wha can

tel l what l ike y e are w i’

that snule o’a thing on your head ? ”

Then after taking an accurate survey of he r face, she pushed aside

her pel isse Weel i ts ao mercy I see y e hae nei ther the red head

nor the muckle cuits o’

the Douglases. I kenna whuther yourfaither has them or no. I ne’er set een on him : ne i ther him nor

his braw leddy though t it worth the ir while to speer after me ; but

I was at nae loss,by a

’accounts.

“ You have not asked after any of your Glenfern friends, said

Mr. Douglas, hoping to touch a m ore sympathet ic chord.“ Time enough wull y e let me draw m y breath , man fowk

canna say aw thing at ance. An’

y e bnte to hae an Inglish wife to ,a S cotch lass wadna ser’ y e. An

’

y er wean, I’se warran’

i t ane o’

the warlds wonders i t’3 been unca long 0’ com in' —he

,he !

He has begun l ife under very melancholy auspices,poor fel

low I said Mr. Douglas, in allusion to his father’s death .

An'wha

'

s fau t was that ? I ne'er heard te ll o’ the like o’

t,to

hae the bai rn kirsened an’i ts grandfai ther dein

’l But fowk are

nei ther born,nor kirsened nor do they wed or dee as they used to

do aw thing’s changed.

You must indeed , have witnessed many changes ?‘

observed

Mr. Douglas rather at a loss how to u tter any thing of a concil ia

tory nature.

“ Changea i— weel a wet I somet imes wonder i f i t '

s the same

Warid,an

'

if it's my ain heed that ’

s upon my shoothers.

“ But wi th these changes y ou must also have seen many improvements ? sai d Mary in a tone of difli dence.

“ Impruvments ?”turning sharply round upon her ; what ken

y e about improvements bai rn ? A bonny impruvement , or ens no,to see ty ley ors and sclaters leavin' Whar I m ind jewks and y erls.

An’

that great glowerin’N ew Toon there,

" point ing out of her

windows,whar I used to sit an

’ look out at bonny green parks,

eu'see the coos m i lket

,an

'the bi ts 0’ bairnies rowin’

an’tum l in’

an’the lasses t rampin

’ i’ their tubs what see I noo but stane an

lime,an

’stoor an

’ dirt, an’ idle cheels an

’

d inki t out madame

prancin'

. Improvements,indeed .

”

Mary found she was not likely to advance her uncle’s fortune bythe judiciousness of her remarks, therefore prudent ly reso lved tohazard no more. Mr. Douglas, who was more au fai t to the preju

E YERCISES IN E LOC'UTION .

di ces of old age, and who was alway s amused wi th her bi tterremarks, when they did not touch h imself, encouraged her to con

t inne the conversation by some observat ion on the prevailiug'

man

ners.“ Mainera l repeated she

,wi th a contemptuous laugh ;

“ whatca

’

y e mainers noo, for I dinna ken ? i lk ane gangs bang int i ll the i rnesher s hoes, an

’ bang oot o't,as i t war a chy nge

- hoos ; an’as for

the maister o’t,he

’s no 0

'

sae muckle vaalu as the flunky ahint hischy re. I’ my grandfaither

’s t ime

,as I hae heard him tell

,i lka

maister o' a fam ily had his ain sate in his ain hoos ; ay ! eu'

sat w1

his hat on his heed afore the best 0’ the land,an

’had h is ain dish

,

‘

an’was ay helpi t first

,an

’ keepi t up his ow thority as a man sudedc . Paurents war paurents then bai rns dardna set up thei r gabsafore them than as they du noo. They ne’er presumed to say thei rheeds war their ain i

'thae day s—wife an

’servants

,reteeners an

’

childer,a’trummel t i’ the presence 0

'thei r heed.

"

Here.a long pinch of snuff caused a pause in the old lady

’

s

harangue.

Mr.Douglas availed him selfofthe opportuni ty to rise and take leave.“ 00 , what

’

s takin y e awa'

,Archie

,in sic a hurry ? S i t doon

there,

” laying her hand upon his arm,

an’ rest y e, an

’tak a glass 0’

wine an’a bit breed ; or maybe

,turn ing to Mary

,

“

y e wad rather

hae a drap bro th to warm y e ? What gars y e look sae blae, bai rn

I'

m sure i t ’s no cauld ; but y e

’re just l ike the lave : y e gang a

’

skiltin’

abou t the streets half naked , an'then y e maun s it and bi rsle

y oursels afore the fire at hame.

”

She had now shuffled along to the farther end of the room,and

opening a press,took out wine and a plateful of various- shaped

art icles of bread, which she handed to Mary.

Hae,bai rn tak a cookie tak i t up what are y ou feared

for ! i t’l l no bi te y e. Here '

s t’

y e Glenfern, an’ your wife, an

’ your

wean ; puir tead, i t's no had a very chancy outset

,weel a wet.”

The wine being drank, and the cookies discussed, Mr. Douglas

made another attempt to wi thdraw, but in vain.

“ Carma y e sit st i l l a wee man,an let me speer after my auld

freens at Glenfern ? Hoo’s Grizzy , an

’Jacky

,an

’N i cky ay e

workin’ awa'at the peels an

’the drogs

— he,he ! I ne'er swal

lowed a peel nor gied a doi t for drogs a‘

my days, eu'

see an ony o

them"ll rin a race wi ’ me when they '

re naur fivescore.


Mr. Douglas here paid some compliments upon her appearance,which were pret ty graciously received ; and added that he was the

bearer of a let ter from his aunt Grizzy , which he would send alongwi th a roebuck and brace of moor- game.

“ Grin your roebuck 's nae bet ter than your last, atweel i t

’s no

worth the sendin'

: poordry fushinless di rt, no worth the chowin’

;weel a wet I begrudged my teeth on

’t. Your mu irfowl war nay

that i l l,bu t they '

re no worth the carry in’

; they’re doug cheap i '

the market enoo,so i t

’s nae great compl iment. G in y e had

brought me a leg 0’ gude mu tton

,or a canler sawmont

,there would

hae been some sense in’t ; but ye

’re ane o’the fowk that '

ll ne’er

harry yourself wi ’ your presents ; i t's but the pickle powther they

cost y e, eu'

I’

se warran’ y o’re thinkin

’mair 0

’ your ain divers ion

than 0’

my stam ick whan y e’

re at the shoot in’ o’ them pui r beasts.

”

Mr. Douglas had borne the various indigni t ies leve lled against

himself and his fam ily with a phi losophy that had no paralle l in hislife before

,bu t to this at tack upon his game he was not proof His

co lor rose,his eyes flashed fire, and something resembling an oath

burst from his l ips, and he strode indignant ly toward the door.

His friend, however, was too nimble for h im. She steppedbefore him ,

and,breaking into a discordant laugh as she pat ted him

on the back : “ So I see y e’

re just the auld man,Arch ie— ay e

ready to tak the strums an’

y e dinna get a’thing your ain wy e.

Many a t ime I had to fleech y e oot o’

the dorts when y e was a

callant . Do y e m ind hoo y e was affronted because I set y e doon

to a cauld pigeon-

py e an'

a tanker o’ t ippenny ae night to your

fowerhoors afore some leddies he,he

,he ! Wee! a wet yere wife

mann hae her ain adoos to manage y e, for y e’

re a cumstairy chield,Archie.

”

Mr. Douglas still looked as if he was i rresolu te whether to laughor be angry.

Come,come

, si t y e doon there t ill I speak to this bai rn,

said

she, as she pulled Mary into an adjoining bedchamber,which wore

the same aspect of chilly neatness as the one they had qu i tted.Then pulling a huge bunch of keys from her pocket, she opened a

drawer,out ofwhich she took a pai r of diamond ear- rings. Hae

,

bai rn,"

said she,as she stuffed them into Mary's hand ; they

belanged to your fai ther’s grandmother. She was a gude woman,

an'

had four~and- twenty sons eu' dochters,an

’ I wuss y e nae waur

374 Examcras s m ELOCUTION.

And what is Hope ? The pudi ng gale of morn,That robs each floweret of i ts gem and dies ;A cobweb

,h id ing d isappo intment

'

s thorn,Which st ings more keenly through the thin disgu ise.

And what is Death Is sti ll the cause unfound

That dark mysterious name of horrid soundA long and l ingering sleep the weary crave.

And Peace ? Where can i ts happiness abound ?N owhere at all

,save heaven and the grave.

Then what is life ? When s tripped of i ts disguise ?A thing to be desired i t cannot be ;

S ince every thing that meets our fool ish eyesGives proof sufficient of i ts van ity.

'Tis but a trial all must undergo

,

To teach unthankful mortal how to prizeThat happiness vain man

’s denied to know

,

Unt i l he's called to claim i t in the skies. John Glare.

Remarks on Reading“ Reading is to the m ind

,

"sa id the Duke of Vivonne to Louis

XIV,what your partridges are to my chops. It is, in fact, the

nourishment of the mind ; for by reading we know our Creator,his

works, ourselves chiefly, and our fel low- creatures. But this nourishment is eas ily converted into poison. Salmasius had read as

much as Grotius,perhaps more ; but thei r diff erent modes of read

ing made the one an enl ightened philosopher,and the other, to

speak plainly, a pedant, puffed up wi th a useless erudi tion.

Let us read wi th method,and propose to ourselves an end to

which all our studies may point. Through neglect of this rule,

gross ignorance often disgraces great readers ; who, by skippinghast ily and i rregularly from one subject to another, render themselves incapable of combining the i r i deas. So many detached parcels of knowledge. cannot form awhole. This inconsistency weakensthe energies of the mind, creates in i t a disl ike to application

,and

even robs i t of the advantages of natural good sense.

Yet let us avoid the contrary extreme, and respect method, wi thout rendering ourselves its slaves. While we propose an end in our

reading, let not this end he too remote ; and when once we have

EXERCISES IN ELOCU’I’ION. 375

attained i t, let our attent ion he di rected to a different subject. In

constancy weakens the understanding ; a long and exclusive appli‘

cation to a single object hardens and cont rac ts i t. Our ideas no

longer change eas i ly into a different channel,and the course of read

ing to wh ich we have too long accustomed ourselves is the onlyone that we can pursue wi th pleasure.

We ough t, besides, to be careful not to make the order of ourthoughts subservient to that of our subjects ; this would be to sacrifice the principle to the accessory. The use of our reading is to aid

us in thinking. The perusal of a part icular work gives birth, per

haps, to ideas unconnected wi th the subject of which it treats. Iwish to pursue these i deas ; they wi thdraw me from my pro

posed plan of reading, and throw m e into a new track, and fromthence, perhaps, into a second and a th ird. At length I begin to

perceive“

whi ther my researches tend. Thei r resul t, perhaps, maybe profi table ; i t is worth while to try ; whereas, had I followed theh igh road, I '

should not have been able,at the end of my long jour

ney , to retrace the progress of m y though ts.This plan of reading is not appl icable to our early studies, since

the severest method is scarcely suffi cient to make us conceive objectsaltogether new. Nei ther can i t be adopted by those who read inorder to wri te

,and who ough t to dwell on thei r subject t ill they

have sounded i ts depths. These reflect ions, however, I do not

absolutely warrant. On the suppos it ion that they are just, theymay be so

,perhaps, for myself only. The cons ti tution of m inds

difl'

ers like that of bodies ; the same regimen wi ll not sui t all. Eachindividual ought to study his own.

To read with attent ion,exactly to define the expressions of our

author,never to admit a conclus ion without comprehending its rea

son, often to pause, reflect, and interrogate oursel ves,—these are somany advices which i t is easy to give, but diffi cult to fol low. The

same may be said of that almost evangel ical maxim of forget tingfriends, country, rel igion, of giving me ri t i ts due praise, and embracing truth wherever it is to be found.

But what ough t we to read ? Each individual must answer this

question for h imself, agreeably to the object of his studies. The

only general precept that I would venture to give, is that of Pliny,“to read much. rather than many things ; to make a careful

selection of the best works, and to render them familiar to us by

attentive and repeated perusals. Gi bbon.

876 .EXERozszrs IN ELOCUTION.

Scene from Virginias

APPIUS , CLAUDlUS and Lxcrons.

App ius. Well, Claudius, are the forces

At hand ?Claudius. They are, and timely

,too ; the people

Are in unwonted ferment.App . There’s something awes me at

The thought of looking on her father lGland. Look

Upon her,my Appius l Fix your gaze upon

The treasures of her beauty,nor avert i t

Till they are thine. B aste l Your t ribunal !Haste ! [Arpms ascends the tribunal.

[Enter Num romns,Icmrus

,Looms, e rzss s, VIRGINIUS leading his

daughter, Sanvm and s sns. A dead s i lenceprevai ls]

Virginias . Does no one speak ? I am defendant here.Is silence my opponent ? Fi t opponent

To plead a cause too foul !or speech ! What browShameless gives front to this most val iant cause,That tries its prowess 'gainst the honor ofA girl

, y et lacks the wi t to know,that he

Who casts off shame, should likewise cast off fearAnd on the verge o' the combat wants the nerve

To stammer forth the s ignal ?App . You had be tter,

Virginius, wear another kind of carnage ;This is not of the fash ion that will serve y ou.

Vir. The fashion, Appius l Appius Claudius tell meThe fashion i t becomes a man to speak in

,

Whose property in his own child—the oflspring

Of his own body, near to him as is

His hand, his arm y ea, nearer closer far,

Kni t to his heart—I say , who has his propertyIn such a thing, the very self of himself

,

Disputed—and I’ll speak so,Appius Claudius ;

I’ll speak so Pray y ou tutor me l

App . S tand forth

Claudius l If y ou lay claim to any interest

378 EXERCISES IN Enocm'zozv.

Vir. (starting forward.) To be sure she will a most wise ques

t ion that l

Is she not his slave Will his tongue l ie for him

Or his hand steal or the finger of his hand

Beckon,or point

,or shu t, or open for him

To ask him if she'll swear l Will she walk or run,

S ing, dance, or wag her head ; do any th ing

That is most easy done She'll as soon swear l

What mockery i t is to have one’

s l ife

In jeOparcly by such a barefaced trick l

Is it to be endured ? I do protest

Against her cath l

App . No law in Rome, Virginius,

Seconds y ou. If she swear the girl'

s her chi ld,]The evidence is good

,unless confronted

By be tter evidence. Look y ou to that,Virginius. I shall take the woman

’

s oath.Virginia. Icil ius l

Icih’

us. Fear not,love ; a thousand oaths

Will answer her.A” . You swear the gi rl

’s your child

,

And that y ou sold her to Virginius’ wife

,

Who passed her for her own. Is that your oath

S lave. It is my oath.App . Your answer now

,Virginius.

Vi r. Here i t is ! [Brings Vmemu forward.Is th is the daughter of a slave I know'Tis not with men as shrubs and trees

,that by

The shoo t y ou know the rank and order of

The stem. Yet who from such a s tem would lookFor such a shoot. My witnesses are these

The relat ives and friends of Num i toria l

Speak for me, my friends ;Have I not spoke the t ru th ?

Women and Citizens. You have,Virginius.

App . S ilence ! Keep s ilence there l No more of that lYou’re very ready for a tumult, ci tizens.

[Hoops appear behind.

EXERCIS ES IN EL ooUTmN.

Lictors,make way to let these troops advance !

We have had a taste of your forbearance, masters,And wish no t for another.Vi r. Tr00ps in the Forum ?App . Virginius have y ou spoken ?Vir. If y ou have heard me,

I have ; If not , I'll speak again.’

App. You need not,

Virginius ; I had ev idence to give,Which, should y ou speak a hundred t imes again,Would make y our pleading vain.

Vir. Your hand,Virginia !

S tand close to me.

App. My conscience will not let meBe s ilent. ’

Tis notorious to y ou all,

That Claudius' father at his death,declared me

The guardian of his son. This cheat has long

Been known to me. I know the girl is notVirginius

’ daughter.Vir. Join your friends

,Icilius

,

And leave Vi rginia to my care.

App. The justice

I should have done my cl ient unrequired,Now ci ted by him

,how shal l I refuse ?

Vi r. Don’t tremble

, girl l don’t tremble.

App . Virginius,

I feel for y ou but though y ou were my father,The majesty of just ice should be sacredClaudius must take V irginia home with him.

Vir. And if he must, I should advise him, Appius,To take her home in time, before his guardian

Complete the violat ion which his eyesAlready have begun, friends ! fellow- citizens !

Look not on Claudius— look on your Decemvi r l

He is the master claims Virginia !The tongues that told him she was not my chi ld

Are these the costly charms he cannot purchaseExcept by mak ing her the slave of Claudius,

879

380 EXERCISES IN ELOC'UTION.

His cl ient,his purveyor, that caters for

His pleasure markets for him picks, and scents,And tastes

,that he may banque t serves him up

His sensual feast,and is not now ashamed

,

In the open common street before your eyes

Fright ing your daugh ters’ and your matrons' cheeks

Wi th blushes they ne ’

er though t to meet to help himTo the honor of a Roman maid ! my ch ild !Who now cl ings to me

,as y ou see

,as i f

This second Tarquin had already coiledHis arms around her. Look upon her Romans

Befriend her ! succor her ! see her not pollu ted

Before her father's eyes l—He is but one.

Tear her from Appius and his Lictors while

She is uns tained. Your hands ! your hands ! your hands !

Ci tizens. They are yours,V irginius.

App . Keep the people back

Support my Lictors sold iers ! S ei ze the girl,

And drive the people back.

Ici lius. Down wi th the slaves !

[Thep eop le make a show of resis tance ; but up on the advance of thesoldiers

,retrea t

,and leave IcrLrUs

,V inemws and his daughter, etc,

in the hands of APPIUS and his party .

Deserted ! Cowards l traitors ! Let me free

But for a moment ! I rel ied on y ou ;Had I rel ied upon myself alone,I had kept them st ill at bay l I kneel to y ouLet me but loose a moment

,if

'tis only

To rush upon your swords.

Var. Iol lius,peace !

You see how’tis

,we are deserted

,left

Alone by our friends,surrounded by our enemies

,

Nerveless and helpless.App . Separate them, Lictors !Vi r. Let them forbear awhile

,I pray y ou, Appius

It is not very easy . Though her arms

Are tender, y et the hold is strong by whichShe grasps me

,Appius forcing them will hurt them


App . I hOpe y ou are satisfied.

I am that she is my daughter !

App . Take her, Lictors !

[VIRGINIA shrieks,andfalls half- dead upon herfather

’sWalden]

Wr. Another moment, pray y ou. Bear w ith me

A li tt le—’Tis my las t embrace.

'Twon

’

t try

Your pat ience beyond hearing, if y ou’re a man !

Lengthen i t as I may , I cannot make i t

Long. My dear child ! My dear V i rginia ! [Kissing her .

There is only one way to save th ine honor !’Tis this.

[Stabs her, and draws out the knife. Icm us breaks from the soldi ers

that held him,and catches her.1

Lo, Appius, wi th this innocent bloodI do devote thee to the infernal gods !Make way there lApp . S top him l Seize him lVir. If they dare

To tempt the desperate weapon that is maddened

Wi th drinking my daughter'

s blood,why

,let them

I t rushes in amongst them. Way there l Way !

[Evi t through the soldiers.

James Sheridan Knowles.

From the Dodge Club: or, Ital y in MDCOGLE

La Cica did not speak the best English in the world ; y et thatcould not account for all the s ingular remarks which she made.

S t i ll less could it account for the tender interest of hermanner. She

had‘i

remarkably bright eyes. Why wandered those eyes so often

to his, and why did they beam wi th such devotion—beam ing for amoment only to fall in sweet innocent confusion La C'ica had the

most fascinating manners, y et they were often perplexing to the

Senator’s soul.The Countess,

” he thought , i s a most remarkable fine woman ;but she does use her eyes uncommon, and I do wi sh she wouldn’

t

be qui te so demonstrative.

”


At last the Senator came to th is conclusion : La Cica was des

perately in love wi th him .

She appeared to be a widow. Now if the poor Ciao was h0pelessly in love, i t mus t be stopped at once. For he was a marriedman

,and his good lady st i l l l ived, wi th a very large fami ly

,most

of the members of which had grown up.La Oica ough t to know this. She ough t indeed. But let the

knowledge be given delicately , ,

not abrupt ly.On the following evening they walked on the balcony of La Cica’a

noble res idence. She was sent imental,devoted

,charm ing.

The conversation of a fascinating woman does not look so wellwhen reported as i t is when u ttered. Her power is in her tone

,her

glance,her manner. Who can catch the evanescent beauty of her

express ion or the deep tenderness of her well-modulated vo ice ?Who indeed ?

Does ze scene please y ou, my Senator ?Very much indeed."

Youar countrymen haf to! me zey would l ike to stay herealloway.

"

“ It i s a beaut iful place.

“ Did y ou aiver see any thin moaire loafely ? And the Countess

looked full in his face.“ Never

,sai d’

the Senator, earnest ly. The next instant heblushed. He had been bet rayed into a compliment .

The Countess sighed.“ Helas l my Senator, that i t is not pairm itte d to moartals to

sociate as zey would laike.

”

Your Senator, though t the gentlemen thus addressed ; how

fond,how tender—poor thing ! poor th ing !"

I wish that Italy was nearer to the S tates, sai d he.

How I adamiar y ouar style of m ind,so difi

’

erente from ze Itzi liana. You are so stong—so nobile. Yet would I laike to see moar

of ze poet ic in y ou.

"

I always loved poet ry,marm

,said the Senator, desperately.

Ah— good—nais—eccelente. I am plees at zat,

" cried the

Countess,wi th much animation. You would loafs i t more ecf

y ou knew I taliano. Your langua ees not sufii ciente musicale for

poatry .

"

384 Exes UISE’S IN ELOC’UTION.

It is not so soft a language as the I- talian.

Ah—no—not so soft. Very well. And what theenka y ou of

so Italiano“ The sweetest language I ever heard in all my born days.

"

“ Ah,now—y ou hev not heard much ofze Italiano, my Senator.

”

I have heard y ou speak often,”said the Senator, nai vely.

“ Ah, y ou compl iment ! I sot y ou was aboove det tera.

"

And the Countess playfully tapped his arm wi th her l i t tle fan.What Ingelis poet do y ou loafe best ?

”

Poet ? English poet 7”said the Senator, wi th some surprise.

Oh—why , marm,I think Watts is about the best of the lot !

“ Watt ? Was he a poet ? I did not know zat. He who ia

vented ze stim- injaine ? And y et if he was a poet i t is naturals

set y ou loafe him best.S team - engine ? Oh no ! This one was a m inister.A meeneestaire ? Ah ! an abbe I know him not. Yet I

ha! read mos of al l y ouar poets.He made up hymns

,marm ,

and psalms—for instance Watt's

Divine Hymns and Spi ritual Songs.

’

“ Songs ? Spiri tuellh? Ah, I mus at once procuaire ze worksof Watt, which was favori t poet of my Senator.A lady of such intelligence as y ou would l ike the poet Wat ts

,

said the S enator, firmly. “ He is the best known by far of all our

poets.”

“What ? better zan Shakespeare, Milton, Bairon ? You muchSurprass me.

“ Better known and better loved than the whole lot. Why , hispoet ry is known by heart through all England and Ameri ca.

“ Merciful Heaven ! what y ou tell me ! ees eet possibl l .An y et

he is not known here efen by name. I t would please me mooch,

my Senato r, to hai re y ou make onequotatione. Know y ou Watt ?

Tell me some words of his which I may remembaire.

"

“ I have a shocking bad memo ry.“ Bad memora ! Oh, but y ou remember somethin

,ais most

beaut iful charm nait y ou haf a nobile soul y ou must be effectsby beau ty by ze ideal. Make for me onequotatione.

"

And she rested her l i ttle hand on the Senator’s arm,and looked

up imploringly in his face.

386 Exee ars es IN ELOC'UTION.

Have y ou fear ? Ah, cruel !The Senator turned pale, but finding refusal impossible, boldly

finished :

To everlasting bliss there !

To ad'

arlast in blees thar.’ S top. I repeat i t all : ‘My willina

sol woode sta in socha frame as zees, ansit ans in hassaf awai to

afl'

arlast in blees thar.’ Am I righ t ?“ Yes

,

"

said the Senator meekly.

I knew y ou were a poet ic sola,

sai d the Countess, coufidingly .

You air honesto true y ou cannot desave. When y ou spik I

can bel iv y ou. Ah,m y Senator ! an y ou can spik zie poetry —at

such a te ime i I nefareknew befoare zat y ou so impassione ! an

y ou air so artaful ! You breeng ze confersazione to beauty to

peat ry— to ze poet Watt—ao y ou may spik verses mos impas

s ioue l Ah ! what do y ou mean ? Sant iss ima madre ! how I wish

y ou spik Ital iano.

"

The Countess drew nearer to him,but her approach only deep

ened his perplexi ty.

“ How that poor thing does love me ! s ighed the Senator.

Law bless i t ! she can't help i t— can’t help i t nohow. She is

a goner ; and what can I do I ‘ll have to leave Florence.

The Countess was standing close beside him in a tender mood

wai t ing for him to break the s i lence. How could he ? He had

been ut tering words which sounded to her l ike love ; and she a

w idow ! a widow ! wretched man that I amThere was a pause. The longer i t lasted the more awkward the

S enator felt . What upon earth was he to do or say ? Whatbus iness had he to go and quote poet ry to widows ? What an old

fool he must be ! B ut the Countess was very far from feel ingawkward. Assum ing an e legant att i tude she looked up

,her face

express ing the tenderest sol ici tude.

What ails my Senator ?

Why the fact is,marm— I feel sad—at leaving Florence. I

must go shortly. My wife has wri tten summoning me home. The

children are down wi th the measles."

Oh, base fabricat ion ! Oh, false Senator ! There wasn’

t a wordof tru th in that last remark. You spoke so because y ou wishedLa Oica to know that y ou had a W ife and fam ily. Yet i t was verybadly done.

E xert arse s rrv E LOCUTION. 387

La Ciao changed nei ther her at t i tude nor her expression. Ev i

dently the exis tence of his wife,and the melancholy s i tuat ion of

his unfortunate children,awaked no sympathy.

“ But my Senato r d id y ou not say y ou woode seeng y ousellefaway to afi

'

arlasteen belees ? ”

Oh, marm,i t was a quotat ion only a quotation.

But at th is cri t ical junc ture the conversat ion was broken up bythe arrival of a number of ladies and gentlemen.

But could the Senator have knownCould he have known how and where those words would con

front him again !

“ Do y ou know La Ci ca ? asked the General,wi th the ai r of a

man who was pu t t ing a home- thrust,and speaking with uncommon

fierceness.

“ I do,

”said the Senator

,m ildly.

You know her well ? You are one of her int imate friends ?“ Am I ? "

Are y ou not ?“ I am friendly wi th her. She is an est imable woman

,wi th much

feel ing and penet rat ion - aud a fond regret exhibi ted i tself in theface of the speaker.

“ Well, S ir, y ou may as well confess. We know y ou, S ir. We

know y ou. You are one of the chosen associates of that infamousGaribaldian plotter and assass in

,whose hotel is in the hot - bed of

conspi racy and revolut ion. We know y ou. Do y ou dare to come

here and deny i t“ I did not come here ; I was brought. I do not deny that y ou

know me,though I haven’

t the pleasure of knowing y ou. But I do

deny that I am the associate of conspi rators."

“ Are y ou not the Ame rican whom La Gica so particularly dist in

guished w i th her favo r“ I have reason to bel ieve that she was part ial to me—somewhat.

He confesses !" sai d the General. “ You came from her to this

place,communicat ing on the way wi th her em issaries.

"

“ I communicated on the way wi th none bu t brigands among the

mountains. If they were her em issaries I wish her joy of them.

My means of communication,"sai d the Senator, while a grim sm ile

388 Ee ee arses IN ELOCUTION.

passed over his face, was an i ron crow-bar,and my remarks left

some deep impression on them,I do bel ieve.

"

“ Tell me now—and tel l me truly,

”said the General after a pause,

in which he seemed trying to make out whether the Senator was

joking or not. To whom are y ou sent in this cityTo no one.

S ir ! I warn y ou that I will not be t rifled wi th.

"

I tel l y ou,"said the Senator, with no apparent exci tement ,

“ I

tell y ou that I have come here to no one. What more can I sayYou must confess.

”

“ I have no thing to confess.

S ir ! y ou have much to confess,cried the General

,angrily

,

“and I will wring i t out of y ou. Beware how y ou trifle with mypat ience. If y ou w ish to regain your liberty confess at once

,and

y ou may escape your just punishment. But if y ou refuse, I’ll shut

y ou up in a dungeon for ten years ! "

“ You will do no such thing.

”

What roared the General . “ Won'

t I ?

You wi ll not . On the contrary, y ou will have to make apolo

gies for these insul ts.

"

I 1—Apologies l Insul ts.The General gnawed h is mustache, and his eyes blazed in fury.“ You have arrested us on a false charge

,based on some slander

ous or s tupid informat ion of some of your infernal Spies,

"sai d the

Senator. What righ t have y ou to pry into the private affai rs of

an American traveler ? We have noth ing to do with y ou.

”

“ You are associated wi th conspi rators . You are charged w i th

t reasonable correspondence wi th rebels. You countenanced revolu

t ion in Florence. You Openly took part wi th Republicans. You

are a notorious friend of La Cica . And y ou came here wi th the

intent ion of foment ing treason in Venice !“ Whoever told y ou that ,

" replied the Senator,

“told m iserable

lies— most horrid l ies. I am no emissary of any party. I am a

private traveler."

“ S ir,we have correspondents in Florence on whom we can rely

bet ter than on y ou. They watched y ou.

”

“ Then the best thing y ou can do is to dism iss those correspond

cu ts and get rogues who have half an idea.

"


The Ameri can Consul soon made his appearance. Upon ente ring

the hell he cast a rapid look around,and seemed surprised at so

august a t ri bunal, for in the General’

s martial form he saw no less a

person than the -Austrian Commandant .

The Consul bowed and then looked at the prisoners. As his ey e

fell upon the Senator i t l ighted up, and his face assumed an expres

sion of the most friendly interest. Evidently“ a recogni t ion. The

Austrian Commandant addressed the Consul di rectly in German.Do y ou know the prisoners ?

”

I know one of them .

"

He is here under a very heavy accusation. I have well substantiated charges by whi ch he is implicated in treason and con

spiracy . He has been connected with Revolutionists of the worststamp in Florence, and there is st rong proof that he has come hereto communicate with Revolutionists in this ci ty.

"

“ Who accuses him of this ? Are they here ?No

,but they have wri tten from Florence warning me of his

journey here.

“ Does the prisoner confess ?

Of course not. He denies. He requested me to send for y ou.

I don’t want to be unjust, so if y ou have any thing to say , say on.

"

“ These charges are impossible.

"

Impossible

He is al together a difi‘

erent man from what y ou suppose. He

i s an em inent member of the American Senate. Any charges madeagainst one l ike him will have to be well substantiated ; and anyinjury done to him will be dangerous in the highest degree. Unlessy ou have undeniable proofs of his guilt i t wi ll be best to free him at

once—or else

Or else what ?Or else there will be very grave compl icat ions.

The Commandant looked doubtful. The others impasmve. Buttons and Di ck interested. The Senator calm.

Again the Commandant turned to the Senator

,his remarks being interpreted as

before.“ How does it happen that y ou were so part icularly int imate wi th

all theRevolutionists in Florence,and an habi tue of La C’ica’

s salon ?that your m ission was well known throughout the ci ty ? that y ou


publ icly acknowledged the Florentine rebell ion in a speech ? thatthe people carried y ou home in triumph ? and that immediately

before leaving y ou rece i ved private ins truc t ions from La Cica ?"

“ To your quest ions,

"sai d the Senator, wi th unabated dignity,

“ I will reply in brief : First,I am a free and independent cit izen

of the great and glorious American Republic. If I associated w i thRevolu t ionists in Florence, I did so because I am accustomed to

choose my own society,and no t to recognize any law or any mas

ter that can forbid my do ing so. I deny,however, that I u as in

any way connected wi th plots, rebell ions or conSpiracies. Secondly ,

I was friendly wi th the Countess because I cons i dered her a most

remarkably fine woman,and because she showed a disposi tion to

be friendly wi th me —a stranger in a s trange land. Thirdly , I

have no m iss ion of any kind whatever. I am a traveler for self

improvement. I have no bus iness,pol it ical or commercial. S o

that my m ission could not have been known. If people talked

about me they talked nonsense. Fourthly , I confess I made a

Speech, but what of that ? I t’s not the fi rst t ime

,by a long chalk.

I don’

t know what y ou mean by ‘acknowledging.’ As a private

ci t izen I congratulated them on thei r success,and would do so

again. If a crowd cal ls on me for a speech, I’

m there. The people

of Florence dragged me home in a carriage. Well,I don

’

t knowwhy they did so. I can’

t help i t if people will take possess ion of

me and pull me abou t. If’tfthly , and las tly, I had an interview wi th

the Countess,had I ? Well

,is i t wrong for a man to bid good-by e

to a friend ? I ask y ou, what upon earth do y ou mean by such a

charge as that ? Do y ou take me for a puling infant ?“ On that occasion, said the Commandant

,she taught y ou some

mysterious words which were to be repeated among the Revolu

t ionists here.

"

“ Never d id any th ing of the kind. That’s a complete full- blown

fict ion.

"

I have the very words.

That’s impossible. You’ve got hol d of the wrong man I see.

’

I wi ll have them read,"said the General solemnly.

And he beckoned to the Interpreter. Whereupon the Interpreter

gravely took out a formidable roll of papers from his breast, and

opened i t . Every gesture was made as if his hand was heavy wi th

the weight of crush ing proof. At last a paper was produced. The

1 7*

399 EXERCISES IN E LOCUTION.

Interpreter took one look at the prisoner, then glanced triumphant lyat the Consul

,and said

“ It is a mysterious language with no apparent meaning, nor

have I been able to find the key to i t in any way . I t is very skill

fully made,for all the usual tests of cipher wri t ing fail in this. The

person who procured i t did not get near enough t i ll the latter part

of the interview, so that he gained no explanat ion whatever fromthe conversat ion.

“ Read,

”sai d the Commandant. The Senator wai ted, wonder.

ingly . The interpreter read

Ma oui llt'

na solo ouda ste ensocefremos dis ansi t ansin assalf a ous

tu afia [as thma belts."

S carce had the first words been u ttered in the Ital ian voice of

the reader than the Senator s tarted as though a shot had s truck

him. His face flushed. Final ly a broad grin spread i tself over hiscountenance

,and down his neck

,and over his chest

,and over his

form,and into his boots

,t i ll at last his whole colossal frame shook

w ith an earthquake of laughter.The Commandant stared and looked uneasy. All looked at the

S enator—all wi th amazement the General,the Interpreter

,the

Offi cials,the Guards, But tons , Dick and the Ameri can Consul.

Oh dear ] Oh dear l ' Oh DEE- AR l cried the Senator,in the

intervals of his ou trageous peals of laughter. “ OH ! ” and a new

peal followed.What did all this mean ? Was be crazy ? Had m isfortunes

turned his brainB ut at last the Senator, who was always remarkable for his selfcontrol

,recovered himself. He asked the Commandant if he m ight

be perm i tted to explain.

“ Certainly,

"said the Commandant

,dolefully. He was afraid

that the thing would take a r idiculous turn,and nothing is so terri

ble as that to an Austrian offi cial.“ Will y ou al low me to look at the paper ? asked the Senator.

“ I will not injure i t at al l.The Interpreter pol i tely carried i t to him as the Commandant

nodded. The Senator beckoned to the Consul. They then walked

up to the Commandant. All four looked at the paper.“ You see

,gentlemen

,said the Senator

,drawing a lead penci l

from his pocket,

“the Florence correspondent has been too sharp .

394 Ex e s:arse s IN ELOCUTION .

Pictures of Swi ss Scenery and of the City of Veni ce.

It was in Swi tzerland that I first felt how constan tly to contemplate sublime creat ion develops the poet ic power. I t was here that

I first began to study nature. Those forests of black gigant ic pines

rising out of the deep snows ; those tal l whi te cataracts, leaping like

headstrong you th into the world, and dash ing from the i r precipices,as i f allured by the beau t iful delus ion of thei r own rainbow m i st ;those m ighty clouds sail ing benea th my feet, or cling ing to the

bosoms of the dark green mountains, or boi l ing up like a spel l from

the invisible and unfathomable depths ; the fel l avalanche, fleet as a

spi rit of evil,terrific when i ts sound suddenly breaks upon the

alm igh ty si lence,scarcely less terrible when we gaze upon i ts crumb

l ing and pallid frame,varied only by the presence of one or two

blas ted firs ; the head of a mountain loosening fromi ts brother peak,root ing up

,in the roar of i te rapid rush

,a whole forest of pines

,and

covering the earth for m i les with elephant ine masses ; t he superna

tural extent of landscape that Opens to us new worlds ; the strongeagles

,and the strange wild‘ bi rds that suddenly cross y ou in y our

path, and stare, and shrieking fly 4 and all the soft sights of joy and

lovel iness that m ingle wi th these sublime and savage spec tacles, therich pastures and the numerous flocks

,and the golden bees and the

w i ld flowers,and the carved and painted cot tages

,and the s imple

manners and the primeval grace— wherever I moved,I was in turn

appalled or enchanted ; but whatever I beheld, new images ever

sprang up in my m ind, and new fee l ings ever crowded on my fancy.

If I were to assign the part icular qual i ty whi ch conduces to thatdreamy and volup tuous existence, which men of high imaginat ionexperience in Ven ice, I should describe i t as the fee l ing of abstraet ion

,which is remarkable in that city

,and pecul iar to i t . Venice is

the only ci ty which can yield the m agical del ights of sol i tude. Allis st i ll and s ilent. No rude sound dis turbs your reveries ; fancy,therefore, is not put to fl ight . N o rude sound dis tracts y our selfconsciousness. This renders existence intense. We feel everything.And we feel thus keenly in a ci ty not only em inent ly beaut iful, notonly abounding in wonderful creat ions of art

,but each step ofwhich

is hallowed ground, quick wi th associat ions , that in the i r more vari

ous nature, the i r nearer relat ion to ourselves,and perhaps the i r more

picturesque character, exercise a greater influence over the imaginat ion than the more antique story of Greece and Rome. We feel all


th is in a ci ty too,wh ich

,al though her luster be indeed d immed

,can

sti ll count among her daugh ters maidens fairer than the orient pearlswi th which her warriors once loved to deck them. Poet ry

,Tradi

tion,and Love, these are the Graces that have invested wi th an

ever—charm ing cestus th is Aphrodi te of ci ties.

Joan ofAre.

What is to be though t of her ? What is to be though t of the

poor shepherd- girl from the hills and forests of Lorraine,that

like the Hebrew shepherd- boy from the hills and forests of Judea

rose suddenly out of the quiet, out of the safety, out of the rel ig

ious inspirat ion,rooted in deep pas toral soli tudes, to a station in the

van of arm ies, and to the more peri lous station at the righ t hand of

kings ? The Hebrew boy inaugurated his patriot ic m iss ion by an

act, by a victorious act,such as no man could deny. But so did the

girl of Lorraine,if we read her s tory as i t was read by those who

saw her nearest. Adverse arm ies bore wi tness to the boy as no

pretender : but so they did to the gentle girl. Judged by the

voices of all who saw them from a station of good-wi ll,both were

found true and loyal to any prom ises involved in thei r first acts.Enem ies i t was that made the difl

'

erence between thei r subsequentfortunes. The boy rose—to a splendor and a noonday prosperity

,

both personal and public, that rang through the records of his people,and became a by -word amongst his posterity for a thousand years

,

unt il the scept re was departing from Judah. The poor,fo rsaken

girl,on the contrary, drank not herself from that cup of rest which

she had secured for France. She never sang together w i th the

songs that rose in her native Dom remy, as echoes to the depart ings teps of invaders. She m ingled not in the festal dances of Vancouleurs which celebrated in rapture the redemption of France. N0 !

for her vo ice was then silent. No ! for her feet were dust. Pure,

innocent, noble hearted girl l whom ,from earliest youth

,ever I

bel ieved in as full of t ru th and se lf- sacrifice,this was amongst the

s trongest pledges for thy side, that never once—no,not for a ino

ment of weakness—dids t thou revel in the vision of coronets and

honor from man. Coronets for thee ! Oh, no ! Honors, i f they

come when all is over, are for those that share thy blood. Daughter

396 EXERCIS ES IN E LOCUTION.

of Domremy,when the grat i tude of thy king shall awaken, thou

wilt be sleeping the sleep of the dead. Cal l her,king of France

,but

she wil l no t hear thee l C i te her by thy appari tors to come and

rece ive a robe of honor,but she will be found en contumace. When

the thunders of un iversal France,as even y et may happen, shal l pro

claim the grandeur of the poor shepherd- girl that gave up all for hercount ry— thy ear

,young shepherd- girl

,will have been deaf for five

centuries. To suffer and to do,that was thy port ion in this l ife ; to

do—never for thyself,always for others ; to saf er—never in the

persons of generous champions,always in thy own ; that was thy

dest iny ; and not for a moment was i t h idden from thyself. ‘Life,

’

thou sai dst,

‘ is short,and the s leep which is in the grave is long.

Let me use that l ife,so transi tory

,for the glory of those heavenly

dream s des t ined to comfort the sleep which is so long.’ This pure

creature—pure from every suspicion ofeven a vis ionary self- interest,

even as she was pure in senses more obvious—never once did thisholy ch ild

,as regarded herself

,relax from her bel ief in the darkness

that was t ravel ing to meet her. She m ight no t prefigure the verymanner of her death ; she saw not in vision

,perhaps

,the aerial

al ti tude of the fiery scaffold,the spectators withou t end on every

road pouring into Rouen as to a coronat ion,the surging smoke

,the

volleying flames,the host i le faces al l around

,the pi tying ey e that

lurked but here and there unt i l nature and imperishable t ru th brokeloose from art ificial res traints ; these m ight not be apparent throughthe m ists of the hurrying future. B ut the voice that called her todeath

,that she heard for ever.

Great was the throne of France even in those days,and great

was he that sat upon i t ; but well Joanna knew that not the throne,

nor be that sat upon i t,was for her but

,on the contrary

,that she

was for them ; not she by them,but they by her

,should rise from

the dust. Gorgeous were the lil ies of France,and for centuries had

the privilege to spread thei r beauty over land and sea,unt il

,in

another century, the wrath of God and man combined to wi therthem ; bu t well Joanna knew,

early at Dom remy she had read thatbi tter truth, that the l i l ies of France would decorate no garland forher. Flower nor bud, bell nor blossom would ever bloom for her.

Thomas De Quin cy .

898 EXERCISES m EL ooUTmN.

Hark ] whence that rushing sound ?’Tis l ike the wondrous strain

That round a lonely ruin swells,Wh ich wandering on the echoing shore,The enthus ias t hears at evening

’Tis softer than the west wind

’

s s igh ;’Tis wilder than the unmeasured notes

Of that strange lyre whose strings

The geni i of the breezes sweep

Those l ines of rainbow l ightAre like the moonbeams when they fal l

Through some cathedral window,but the t ints

Are such as may no t find

Comparison on earth.

Behold the chariot of the fai ry queen l

Celest ial coursers paw the unyield ing air ;Thei r filmy pennons at her word they furl,And stop obedient to the re ins of l igh tThese the queen of spells drew in ;She spread a charm around the spot

,

And leaning graceful from the ethereal car,

Long did she gaze,and s i len tly

,

Upon the slumbering maid. Shelley .

Death of Ameli aWentworth.AMELIA MARIAN.

Mar ian. Are y ou awake,dear lady ?

Amelia. Wide awake.There are the s tars abroad

,I see. I feel

As though I had been sleeping many aday .

What t ime 0’the n igh t is i t ?

Mar. About the s troke

Of midnight.

Amel. Let i t come. The skies are calm

And bright ; and so,at last my spirit. is.

Whether the heavens have influence on the m indThrough life

,or only in our day s of death,

EXERCISES IN E LOCUTION.

I know not ; y et before, ne’

er d id my soulLook upwards wi th such hope of joy , or pineFor that hope’s deep complet ion. Marian !Let me see more of heaven. There enough.Are y ou not well

,sweet girl ?

Mar. Oh ! y es : but y ou

Speak now so strangely y ou were wont to talkOf plain familiar things, and cheer me : nowYou set my spirit drooping.Amcl. I have Spoke

Nothing but cheerful words,thou idle gi rl.

Look look ! above : the canopy of the sky ,

Spot ted wi th s tars,shines l ike a bridal- dress

A queen migh t envy that so regal bl ueWh ich wraps the world 0’ nights. Alas

,alas !

I do remember in my fol ly ing daysWhat wild and wanton wishes once were m ine

,

S laves—radiant gems— and beauty wi th no peer

And friends (a ready host) — but I forget .

I shall be dreaming soon, as once I dreamt,When I had hOpe to ligh t me. Have y ou no song

,

My gentle girl,for a s ick woman's ear ?

There’s one I’ve heard y ou s ing : “ They sai d his ey e

No,that's not i t : the words are hard to hi t.

His ey e like the mid- day sun was brigh t

Mar.’Tis so.

You've a good memory. Well

,listen to me.

I must not t rip, I see.

Amel. I hearken. Now.

His ey e l ike the m id—day sun was bright

Hers had a p roud but a m ilder l ight,Clear and sweet l ike the cloudless moon

Alas ! and must i t fade as soon

His voice was l ike the breath of war,

But hers was fainter softer far ;

And y et, when he of his long love sighed,

She laughed in scorn he fled and died.

399


Mar. There is another verse, of a different air,But indistinct—l ike the low m oaning

Of summer winds in the evening air : thus i t runs

They said he died upon the wave,And his bed was the wild and bounding billow

Her bed shall be a dry earth grave :

Prepare i t quick, for she wants her pillow.

Amd . How slowly and how s ilent ly doth timeFloat on his starry journey. S til l he goes,And goes

,and goes

,and doth not pass away.

He rises wi th the golden morning, calm ly,And with the moon at nigh t. Me thinks I see

Him stretching wide abroad his m ighty wings,Float ing for ever o'er the crowds of men

,

Like a huge vul ture wi th i ts prey beneath.Lo l I am here, and t ime seems pass ing on

To- morrow I shall be a breathless thing

Yet he will st ill be here ; and the blue hoursWill laugh as gai ly on the busy worldAs though I were al i ve to welcome them .

There's one will shed some tears. Poor Charles !

[CHARLES enters ]Charles. I am here.

Did y ou not call ?Amel. You come in t ime. My though ts

Were full of y ou, dear Charles. Your mother now

I take that t i tle in -her dying hour

Has privilege to Speak unto your youth .

There's one thing pains me,and I would be calm.

My husband has been harsh unto me y et

He is my husband ; and you’ll think of this

If any sterner feel ing m ove your heart 7Seek no revenge for me. You will not ?—Nay ,

Is i t so hard to grant my last request ?He i s my husband : he was father

,too

,

Of the blue- eyed boy y ou were so fond of once.Do y ou remember how his eyel ids closed

402 EXERCIS E'

S IN ELOCUTION.

No,no : oh l say not so. I cannot bear

To hear y ou talk thus. Will y ou break my heart ?'

Amcl. No : I would caut ion i t against a change,That soon must happen. Calm ly let us talk.When I am dead

Ch. Alas , alas !Amd . This is

Not as I wish : y ou had a braver spirit.

Bid it come forth. Why, I have heard y ou talk

Of war and danger—Ah ![Wsm ‘won'

rn'

enters.jMar. She’s pale—speak

,speak.

Ch. Oh l my lost mother: How ! You here ?Went. I am come

To pray her pardon. Let me touch her hand.Amel ia ! she faints : Amelia !Poor faded girl ! I was too harsh unjust.

Ch. Look !

Mar. She has left us.O’h. It is false. Revive !

Mother,revive

,revive !

Mar. It is in vain.

Ch. Is i t then so ? My soul i s s ick and faint.Oh ! mother, mother. I— I cannot weep.

Oh for some blinding tears to dim my eyes,

80 I m igh t not gaze on her. And has deathIndeed

,indeed struck her so beau t iful ?

So wronged,and never erring ; so beloved

By one who now has nothing left to love.

Oh ! thou bright heaven,if thou art calling now

Thy bright angels to thy bosom rest,

For lo l the brigh test of thy host is goneDeparted and the earth is dark below.

And now I'll wander far and far away,

Like one that hath no country. I shall findA sullen pleasure in that l ife

,and when

I say“ I have no friend in all the world

,

My heart will swell wi th pride and make a show

EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION. 408

Unto itself of happiness ; and in truthThere is in that same sol i tude a taste

Of pleasure which the social never know.

From land to land I’l l roam,in all a stranger,

And,as the body gains a braver look

,

By staring in the face of al l the winds,

So from the sad aspect of different thingsMy soul shall pluck a courage

,and bear up

Against the past. And now for Hindostan.

Bry an W: Pt‘octer.

The Minstrel’

s Song in Ella.

0h ! sing unto my roundelay ;Oh ! drop the briny tear wi th me ;

Dance no more at hol iday,Like a running river be ;My love is dead,Gone to his death-bed,All under the willow- t ree.

Black his hai r as the winter night ,Whi te hi s neck as summer snow,

Ruddy hi s face as the morning light ,Cold he l ies in the grave belowMy love is dead,Gone to his death-bed

,

All under the willow- tree.

Sweet his tongue as throstle’s note,Quick in dance as thought was he ;

Deft his tabor, cudgel stou t ;Oh l he l ies by the wi llow- tree.

My love i s dead,Gone to his death—bed,All under the willow- tree.

Hark ! the raven flaps his wing,In the briered dell below :Hark ! the death- owl loud doth sing,

To the nigh tmares as they go.

404 Ex es arses IN ELOCUTION.

My love is dead,Gone to his death-bed

,

Al l under the willow- t ree.

See ! the whi te moon shines on h igh ,Whiter is my true—love

's shroud ;

White r than the morning sky ,Whiter than the even ing cloud.

My love is dead,

Gone to his death-bed,

All under the willow- t ree.

Here,upon my t rue-love s grave

,

Shal l the garish flowers be laid,Norone holy saint to save

All the sorrows of a maid.My love is dead,Gone to his death- bed,

All under the willow- t ree.

Wi th my hands I’ll bind the briers,

Round his holy corse to gre ;Elfin- fai ry

,l igh t your fires

,

Here my body s t ill shall be.

My love is dead,


All under the W i llow- t ree.

Come with acorn cup and thorn,

Drain my heart’

s blood all away ;Life and all i ts good I scorn

,

Dance by nigh t,or feas t by day .

My love is dead,


All under the willow- tree.

Water-w i tches,crowned wi th rcy tes,

Bear me to your deadly t ide.

I‘

die—I come—my true- love waits.

Thus the damsel spake, and died. Ohatterton.

406 EXEReIsEs IN ELOCUTION.

i ted a m ingled expression of disgust and compassion, on his com

panion, he added with reverence : Had y ou thought more of Him

in fai r weather,your case would be less to be p it ied in this tempest.

’

‘Do y ou st ill think there is much danger ? ’ asked Dillon.

‘To them that have reason to fear death. Listen ! Do y ou hear

that hollow noise beneath y e ?’

" Tis the wind driving by the vessel ! ’

Tis the poor thing herself,

’sai d the afi

'

ected cockswain,

‘ givingher las t groans. The water is breaking up her decks, and in a few

m inu tes more,the handsomest model that ever cut a wave, will be

l ike the chips that fell from her in fram ing l’

‘Why then did y ou remain here ?’ cried Dil lon wildly.

‘To die in my coffin, if i t should be the will of God,

’ returned

Tom. These waves are to me what the land is to y ou : I was born

on them,and I have always meant that thev should be my grave.

’

‘B ut I— I,

’

shrieked Dillon,

‘ I am not ready to die — I cannot

die l— I will not die ! ’

‘Poor wretch l’muttered his companion

,

‘

y ou must go l ike therest of us ; when the death -watch is cal led, none can skulk from

the muster.’

‘I can swim,

’ Dillon cont inued,rushing wi th frant ic eagerness to

the side of the wreck. ‘Is there no billet of wood,no rope

,that I

can take with me

‘None ; every thing has been cut away,or carried off by the sea.

If y e are about to strive for your l ife,take wi th y e a stout heart

and a clean conscience,and trust the rest to God.

’

‘God echoed Dillon,in the madness of his frenzy , ‘I know no

God! there is no God that knows me‘Peace l

'said the deep tones of the cockswain

,in a voice that

seemed to Speak in the elements ;‘blasphemer

,peace I’

The heavy groaning, produced by the water in the t imbers of theArie l

,at that moment added i ts impulse to the raging feelings of

Dil lon,and be cast himself headlong into the sea. The water

,

thrown by the roll ing of the surf on the'

beach,was necessari ly

returned to the ocean,in eddies

,in different places favorable to such

an action of the element. Into the edge of one of these counter

currents,that was produced by the very rocks onowhich the schooner

lay , and which the watermen call the ‘under- tow

,

’

Dillon had un

EXERCIS ES IN E LOCUTI ON . 407

know ingly thrown h is person ; and when the waves had dri venhim a short distance from the wreck

,he was me t by a stream that

his most desperate efforts could not overcome. He was a l igh t and

powerful swimmer. and the struggle was hard and prot racted. Wi ththe shore immediately before his eyes

,and at no great distance

,he

was led,as by a false phantom

,to cont inue his efforts

,al though they

did not advance him a foot. The old seaman,who at first had

watched his mot ions with careless indifference,understood the dan

ger of his si tuat ion at a glance,and

,forgetful of his own fate

,he

shouted aloud, in a vo ice that was driven over the struggl ing vict imto the ears of his shipmates on the sands

‘ Sheer to port,and clear the under- tow ! Sheer to the south

ward !

Dillon heard the sounds,but his facult ies were too much obscured

by terror to dist inguish their object ; he, however, bl indly yieldedto the call

,and gradually changed his di rect ion unt il his face was

once more turned toward the vessel. Tom looked around him for arope, but all had gone over w i th the spars, or been swep t away. by

the waves. At this moment of disappointment,his eyes met those

of the desperate Dillon. Calm and inured to horrors as was the

veteran seaman,he involuntari ly passed his hand before his brow to

exclude the look of despai r he encountered ; and when, a moment

afterward,he removed the rigid member, he beheld the sinking form

of the victim as i t gradually set tled in the ocean,st i ll struggl ing wi th

regular but impotent st rokes of the arms and feet to gain the wreck,and to preserve an existence that had been so much abused in i ts

hour of al lotted probation.

‘He will soon meet his God, and learn

that his God knows him murmured the cockswain to himself.

As he y et spoke, the wreck of the Ariel yiel ded to an overwhelm

ing sea,and after a uni versal shudder, her t imbers and planks gave

way , and were swept toward the cliffs, bearing the body of the

s imple- hearted cockswain among the ruins.James E Cooper.

The Character of Falstaff:

Falstafi’s w i t is an

‘emanation of a fine const i tu ti on ; an exubera

t ion of goodhumor and good- nature ; an overflowing of his love

of laugh ter and good- fel lowship ; a giving vent to his heart’s ease

1 8

408 EXERCISES IN ELOCUTI ON .

and over- contentment wi th himself and others. He would not be

in character if he were not so fat as he is ; for there is the greatest

keeping in the boundless luxury of his imagination, and the pampered self- indulgence of his phys ical appet i tes. He enriches and

nourishes his m ind wi th jests, as he does his body-wi th sack and

sugar. 3 carves out his jokes as he would a capon or a haunch

of venison, where there is cut and come again and pours out upon

them the oi l of gladness. His tongue drops fatness, and in the

chambers of hi s brain ‘i t snows of meat and drink.’ He keeps

up perpetual hol i day and open house,and we l i ve wi th him in a

round of invi tat ions to a rump and dozen. Ye t w e are not to Sup

posethat he was a mere sensual ist , All this is as much in imaginat ion as in reali ty. His sensual ity does not engross and stupify his

other facult ies, but ascends me into the brain, clears away all the

dull crude vapors that envi ron i t,and makes i t full ofnimble

,fiery

,

and delectable shapes .’ His imaginat ion keeps up the ball after hissenses have done with i t. He seem s to have even a greater enjoy

ment of the freedom from rest raint , of good cheer, of his ease, of his

vani ty,in the i deal exaggerated descript ion which he gives of them ,

than in fact. He never fails to enrich his d iscourse wi th allus ionsto eat ing and drinking ; but we never see him at lable. He carrieshis own larder abou t with him

,and he i s h imself ‘

a tun of man.

’

His pulling out the bot tle in the field of battle is a joke to show h iscontempt for glory accompanied wi th danger, his systemat ic adherence to his Epicurean

'

philosophy in the most try ing circumstances .

Again, such is his de l iberate exaggerat ion of his own v ices,that i t

does not_seem qui te certain whether the account of his hostess

'

s bill,found in his pocket

,wi th such an out - of- the-way charge for capons

and sack, wi th only one half- penny -worth of bread,was not put

there by himself as a trick to humor the jest upon his favori te pro

pensities, and as a conscious caricature of himself. He is repre

sented as a l iar, a braggart, a coward, a glutton,etc.

,and y et we are

not offended, but del ighted with him ; for he is all these as much toamuse others as to grat ify himself. He Openly assumes all thesecharacters to show the humorous part of them. The unrestrained

indulgence of his own ease,appet i tes

,and convenience

,has neither

malice nor hypocrisy in i t. In a word,he is an actor in h imself

almost as much as upon the stage,and we no more object to the


And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,Lenore ! "

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,“ Lenore !

Merely th is, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul wi th in me burning,S oon again I heard a tapping someth ing louder than before.S urely,

"said I surely that is something at my w indow lattice

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore

Lct my heart be st ill a moment, and th is mystery explore.'

Tis the w ind,and nothing more.

Open here I flung the shutter,when

,wi th many a fli rt and flut ter

,

In there s tepped a s tately Raven of the saintly day s of yore.Not the least obe isance made he ; not a m inute stopped or st ayed

he ;

But, wi th m ien of lord or lady,perched above my chamber- door

Perched upon a bust of Pallas , just above my chamber- doorPerched and sat

,and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird begui ling my sad fancy into smi l ing,By the grave and s tem decorum of the countenance i t wore

,

“ Though thy crest be shorn and shaven,thou

,

" I said,

art sureno craven

,

Ghastly, grim and ancient Raven,wandering from the nightly

shore

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the nigh t’s P lutonian shore !Quoth the Raven : Nevermore.

Much I marveled th is ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though i ts answer li ttle meaning li ttle relevancy bore ;For we cannot help agree ing that no living human beingEver y et was blessed wi th seeing bird above his chamber - doorBir i or beas t upon the sculptured bust above his chamber- door

,

Wi th such name as Nevermore."

But the Raven, si tting lonely on that placid bust, spoke onlyThat one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.Nothing further then he ut tered ; not a feather then he flu tte red

EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION . 4 1 1

Till I scarcely more than mu ttered : “ Other friends have flownbefore

On the morrow he will leave me,as my hopes have flown before.

Then the bird said : “ Nevermore.

"

S tartled at the st illness broken by reply so ap tly spoken,Doubtless

,sai d I

,

“ what i t ut ters is i ts only stock and store,Caugh t from some unhappy master

,whom unmerciful disaster

Followed fast and followed faster,t il l his songs one burden bore

Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore,Of “ Never—nevermore.

"

But,the Raven st ill beguil ing all my sad soul into sm ilin g,

S traigh t Iwheeled a cushioned seat in fi ont of bird and bust and

door,

Then upon the velvet s inking, I betook myself to l inkingFancy unto fancy

,thinking what this om inous bird of yore

What this grim,ungainly

,ghastly

,gaunt and om inous bird of yore

Meant in croaking “ Nevermore.

"

This I sat engaged in guess ing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core ;

This and more I sat divining, w i th my head at ease recliningOn the cushion’s velvet l ining that the lamp- l ight gloated o’er,But whose velvet violet l ining wi th the lamp- light gloat ing o'er

She shall press, ah, nevermore l

Then,methough t, the,

air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen

censer

Swung by seraph im,Whose footfalls t inkled on the tufted floor.

Wretch l I cried,“thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he

hath sent thee

Respi te - respi te and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore l

Quail”,ohquafi

’

this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore ]Quoth the Raven : Nevermore.

”

Prophet l said I,

“ th ing of evil 1 - prophet st i ll i f bird or dcvii iWhether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate, y et all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted


On this home by horror haunted— tell me t ruly,I implore

Is there— is there balm in Gilead — tel l me— tell me,I 1m

plore lQuoth the Raven : “ Nevermore.

“ Prophet ! said I,

“thing of evil—prophet sti ll

,if bird or

devfll

By that heaven that bends above us by that God we both adore,Tel l this soul wi th sorrow laden

,i f,wi thin the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a '

sainted maiden,whom the angels name Lenor

’

e

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden,whom the angels name Lenore ?

Quoth the Raven : “ Nevermore.

”

Be that word our s ign of parting,bird or fiend ! " I shrieked,

upstart ing

Get thee back into the tempest and the night’s Plutonian shore l

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken l

Leave my lonel iness unbroken l— qui t the bust above my door lTake thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my

deor l

Quoth the Raven : “ Nevermore.

And the Raven, never fl i t ting, st i ll is s itt ing, st i ll is s itt ing,On the palli d bust of Pallas

,just above my chamber- door ;

And his eyes have all the seem ing of a demon's that is dream ing,

And the lamp - ligh t o’er him stream ing,throws his shadow on the

floor ;And my soul from out the shadow that l ies floating on the floor

,

Shall be l ifted never more !

Death of Gawt rey the Gainer.

At both doors now were heard the sounds of vo ices. Open inthe king’s name

,or expect no mercy l ‘Hist l

'

said Gawt rey.‘One way y et

-L- the window the rope.

’

Morton opened the casement—Gaw trey uncoiled the rope. The

dawn was breaking i t was l igh t in the streets,bu t al l seemed qu iet

w ithout. The doors reeled and shook beneath the pressure of the

pursuers. Gawtrey flung the repe across the st reet to the oppos ite

4 14 EXERCI SES IN ELOC’UTION.

y et spoke the indom itable power and fierceness of the man. His

look,so fixed— so intense—so s tern

,awed the pol iceman ; his

hand t rembled as he fired,and the ball struck the parapet an inch

below the spot where Morton knelt. An indist inct, wi ld, gurgl ingsound—half laugh

,half yell— of scorn and glee

,broke from Gawt

rey's l ips. He swung himself ou near - near—nearer—a yardfrom the parapet .

‘You are saved l’ cried Morton when at that moment a volley

burs t from the fatal casement— the smoke rolled over both thefugi t ives— a groan

,or rather how]

,of rage

,and despai r

,and agony

,

appalled even the hardiest on whose ear i t came. Morton sprang tohis feet

,and looked below. He saw on the rugged s tones, far down,

a dark,formless , motionless mass—the st rong man of pass ion and

levity— the giant who had played wi th life and soul,as an infant

wi th the baubles.

that i t prizes and breaks—was what the Caesarand the leper al ike are

,when all clay is withou t God's breath

what glory, genius, power, and beau ty, would be for ever and for

ever, if there were no God !Bulwer

Jeanie Morri son.

I’

ve wandered east. I’

ve wandered west,

Through many a weary way ;

But never,never can forget

The love of l ife’s young day lThe fire that’s blawn on Beltane e

’en

,

May weel be black gin Yule ;But blacker fa' awai ts the heartWhere first fond love grows cool .

0 dear, dear Jeanie Morrison,

The thochts o' bygane years

S t ill fl ing thei r shadows owre my pathAnd blind my een w i

’

tears l

They blind my een w i’

saut,saut tears,

And sai r and s ick I pine,

As memory idly summons upTheblitheblinks o’ langsyne.

EXERCISES IN E LOCUTION. 4 15

’Twas then we loved ilk i ther weel,

'Twas then we twa did part ;Sweet t ime i—sad t ime twa bairns at schule,Twa bairns

,and but as heart !

’Twas then we sat on ae laigh bink,

To lear ilk i ther lear ;And tones, and looks, and sm iles were shed,Remembered ever mai r.

I wonder,Jeanie, aften y et,

When s it t ing on that bink,Cheek touchin' cheek, !oof locked in looi;What our wee heads could think.

When baith bent doun owre ae braid page,Wi’ ae buik on our knee

,

Thy l ips were on thy lesson, but

My lesson was in thee.

Omind y e how we hung our heads,How cheeks brent red wi' shame,Whene'er the schule-weans

,laughin

’

,said,

We cleeked thegi ther hame ?

And m ind y e o’the Saturdays

The schule then skailed at noonWhen we ran afl

'

td speel the brass

The broomy braes 0’June ?

My head rins round and round about,My heart flows l ike a sea,

As w e by sue the thochts rush back

0’

schule- t ime and o’thee.

Oh, mot u in’ l ife ! oh, mora in

’ love !

Oh, lightsome days and lang,When hinnied hepes around our heartqLike s immer blossoms, sp rang !

Omind y e, love, l .ow aft we left

The desvia’ dinsome toun,

To wander by the green burnside,And hear i ts water croon ?

1 8*

4 16 EXERCISES IN EL ocUTION .

The simmer leaves hung-

owre our heads,The flowers burst round our feet,

And in the gloamin’o’

the wood

The throssil whist led sweet .

The throssi l whistled in the wood,The burn sung to the t rees,

And we with N ature’s heart in tune,Concerted harmon ies ;

And on the knowe aboon the burn,For hours thegi ther sat

In the s ilentness 0’ joy , t i ll bai thWi’ very gladness grat l

Ay e, ay e, dear Jeanie Morrison,Tears trinkled doun your cheek,

Like dew-beads on a rose, y et nane

Had ony power to speak !

That was a time,a blessed t ime.

When hearts were fresh and young,

When freely gushed all feel ings forth,Unsyllabled—unsung !

I marvel,Jeanie Morrison

,

G in I hae been to thee

As closely twined w i ’ earliest thochts

As y e has been to me ?

Oh ] tell me gin their music fillsThine ear as i t does m ine ;

Oh l say /

gm e’er your heart grows great

“ ’i’ dream ings o

’ langsyne ?

I’

ve wandered east,‘

I've wandered west,

I'

ve borne a weary lo t ;But in my wanderings, far or near,Ye never were forgot.

The fount that first burst f ‘

ae th is heart,S t ill travels on i ts way ;

And channels deeper as i t rins,The love 0

’ life's young day .

4 18 EXERCIS ES IN E LOCUTION.

But surely,soon will break the mom

The fai r light of the Better Land,When

,unto angel glories borne,

Before the great white throne I’ll stand.Oh ! I have dreamed, in days gone by,Ambit ion’

s dream of pride and fame,

Of days and years to come, when I

Should gain a minst rel’s glorious name.

Now coldly blows the autumn wind,And darker grows the autumn sky

And,w i thered on the damp

,cold ground

,

S ummer’s bright leaves and flowers lie :E

'

en thus wi thin my heart are strewnThe wrecks of each bri gh t hope and dream,

Like wi thered leaves and flowers,grown

,

Precious no more to me,they seem.

All faded are those vis ions brigh t,And crushed those dreams of earthly fame

,

And I would only seek to wri te

Wi thin the book of life,my name.

Now l ife is no more brigh t to me,

For fai rer forms my soul shall greetWhen I go up the shining way ,

The pearly gate,and golden street.

Oh ! I am longing to go home,For earth is growing cold and dim ;

And soon will my Redeemer comeI soon shall sing my even ing hymn.

And so she sang her hymn at even,

And laid her down in peace to restShe woke next morn

,away in Heaven

To dwell for ay e among the blest.Ellen Scherzo/c.

EXERC ISE'

S IN E LOCUTION . 4 19

SKETOHES OP AUTHORS.Annaron, T. B .

,a popular American wri ter

,a contributor to the

Atlantic Monthly.

Aasr,Mrs. H. E. G.

,a lady of fine l iterary talent

,who was edu

cated at Oberlin, Ohio. She published

,a few years ago, a volume

of poems en t i tled Household Songs ; she edi ted for a long t ime TheHome Monthly and a juveni le magazine called the Youth’s Companion

,and has wri tten much for the New York Independent

,and

many o ther newspapers and periodicals. She has also been much

interested in educat ional work,lecturing upon methods of teach

ing and li terary subjects at Teachers’ Ins t itu tes in several S tates.

At present she is associated wi th her husband,Prof.Ol iver Arey, in

conduc ting the Normal School at Whitewater,Wis.

BROWNING,Boasar

,an English poet

,author of Bells and Pome

grantes, The Soul'

s Tragedy,etc.

BROWNING,ELIZABETH Bananrr

,was born in London in 1809

,was

a very remarkable chi ld,wri t ing verses at ten years of age, and

publishing “ An Essay on Mind at seventeen.

S he had a very thorough educat ion, studying the classics, philosophy, etc. ; but her favori te study was the Greek language and

i ts l i terature.Mrs. Browning’s l ife was early saddened by the loss of an idol

ized brother,and then fo llowed years of illness. But when Others

would have sunken under the load of infirm ity and pain, this sub

l ime woman wrote impassioned poetry and translated Greek. In

1846 she was married to Robert Browning,and the last years of

her l ife were Spent in I taly. Under i ts sunny skies,and in the

brightness of her home,she was somewhat restored to heal th. She

died at Florence on the 29th of June,1861. In the English burial

ground in that city the traveler will find a whi te marble tablet bear

ing this inscrip t ion “ Here wrote and died Elizabeth Barre tt

Browning, who, in her woman’

s heart , united the wisdom of the

sage and the eloquence of the poet ; wi th her golden verse she

linked I taly to England. Grateful Florence places this memorial,A . D.

420 E XER CI S ES IN E LOCUTION .

BREMER,FREDERIKA

,a Swedish story writer

,born in 1800. Her

works have been very ably translated by Mary Howi tt, of England.

She wro te Family Cares and Fam i ly Joys, The Pres i dent'

s Daugh

ter,N ina, etc. A few years s ince, and bu t a short t ime previous to

her death,she vis i ted America. She rece i ved great at tent ion from

the li terary people of this country,and her book

,Homes in the

New World,published after her return to Sweden, is an interest ing

his tory of her trave ls. She vis ited her people who had set tled in

the West,commending them for the i r industry and thrift. She died

in 1864.

BROWN,GRACE

,a native of Comac

,Long Island

,and a young

Wri ter of prom ise.

BULWER, S ir EDWARD, was born in 1805. He was the youngest

son of Gen. Bulwer,of Heydon Hal l

,N orfolk

,England. After

the death of his father he succeeded to his mother’s estate,and took

her ancient fam ily name—Ly t ton. This gentleman’

s full name is,

Edward George Earle Lyt ton Bulwer Lyt ton. His firs t volumewas published at the age of fifteen

,and he has wri t ten almos t con

stantly ever s ince. He is interes ted in pol it ics as well as l i terature,

and has been several years in the House of Commons. In 1853 the

Univers i ty ofOx ford confe rred the degree ofD. C. L. upon S ir Bul

wer Ly t ton,in 1856 he was e lected rector of the Univers ity of Glas

gow,and in 1858 was made Secretary for Colonial Affairs.

COLLINS , WILLIAM,the son of a hatter

,was born on Christmas

day , 1721 , at Chichester,England . He began his educat ion at

Winchester college,but finally took his degree at Magdalen college

,

Oxford. After leaving school he took clerical orde rs,but soon

abandoned the gown and prayer - book to apply himse lf moreclosely to l iterature .

He was not successful,at first

,in attracting much attent ion as a

Writer, and i t is said that he sank under the disappo intment, and hecame indolent and diss ipated. For a few years before his death

,

which occurred in 1759,he frequented the aisles and cloisters of

Chichester Cathedral,night and day , accompanying the music with

sobs and moans. The poor poet died of melancholy,and a gener

at ion after his poems became popular.

4 22 EXERCISES IN ELOC’UTION .

buy Thomson’

s Seasons, paying for the book a sh ill ing,which he

had earned by hard labor. That very day he began to wri te poet ry.

His first volume was bought for twenty pounds, and was published

in 1820. He came into possession of a fortune from the sale of hisbooks

,and the cont ribut ions made by nobleman and others ; gave

up his plow ; married a farmer's daugh ter, and set tled down in hisl ibrary to the pleasures of study. But in an unlucky moment heleft his books to speculate in farm ing, and lost not only all his

.

hard

earnings,but his m ind also

,and he is now in a private asylum for

the insane.

COLERIDGE,SAMUEL TAYLOR, born at Devonsh ire

,England

,in 1772.

He was a schoolmate of Charles Lamb at Christ ’s hospi tal. In a

fi t of desperat ion after the death of his father,he enl is ted as a sol

d ier in the l ight dragoons,London

,and served four months before

h is release was procured. He offi ciated later as a Uni tarian clergyman

,and afterward as the secretary to the governor of Mal ta.

His poe t ic wri t ings have great variety in s ty le and character.The Rime of the Ancient Mariner is a wonderful poem ,

preternaturaland fascinat ing. There is noth ing at all resembling i t in l i terature.

CLAY, HENRY,an American statesman

,born inV irginia in 1777,

and died at Washington in 1852. He was prom inent in pol i tics forfifty years, dist inguishing himself in every pos i t ion which he

occupied.He was sent to the Legislature of Kentucky

,was in the United

S tates Senate,was the American Minister to Ghent

,etc.

CLARK, JAMES G.,was born in Oswego county

,N . Y.

,in 1830.

He has the rare gift of wedd ing his poetry to most beaut iful mus ic,and

,also, of giving i t expression in song. As a poet

,he i s no ted

for the beauty and perfect ion of his rhy thm ; as a composer,for the

wonderful adaptat ion of the mus ic to the sent iment,and as a bal

lad s inger,he has

,probably

,no superior.

COOPER,JAMES FENIMORE

,was born in Burl ington

, New Jersey,but l ived nearly all his l ife in New York. He was for a short t imein early life a sailor, andwas thereby enabled to paint his sea- scenesas none but a genuine tar could do. He also del ineated Indiancharacter and habi ts wi th wonderful fidel i ty. He wrote manynove ls

,sketches of European character

,etc.

,etc

EXERCIS ES IN E LOCUTION . 423

DE KROYFT,Mrs. HELEN

,a lady of rare geni us and checkered for

tune. She had perfect sigh t, and in one brief month was a bride,

a widow and was blind. She has wri tten much for magazines,

newspapers, etc.,and a few years s ince published a volume which

has had a very large sale. A juveni le s tory of rare interest—Litt leJakey —is now in press. For more than twenty years the darknessof nigh t has shrouded her vision. but in that t ime she has performeda herculean labor in l i terature

,studying Lat in as a past ime and read

ing C icero’

s orat ions wi th the help of an amanuensis.

DE MILLE,JAMES

,au thor of the Dodge Club

, or Italy in

MDCCCLXIV,a humorous sat ire published by Harper Brothers.

DE QUINCEY,THOMAS, was born at Manchester

,England

,in 1786

,

and was educated at Eaton and Oxford.

DISRAELI,Righ t Hon. BENJAMIN

,born in London in the year 1805.

Has m ingled much in polit ics,and as a speaker is noted for his sar

cast ic eloquence.

DIOKENS,CHARLES

,is the son of a paymaster in the Navy Depart

ment,England

,and was born at Landport

,Portsmou th

,in 18 12.

In early life he was a Parliamentary reporter,wri ting

,in addi t ion

,

sketches for the Morning Chronicle,Monthly Magazine

,etc.

,under

the nom dep lume of Boz. His Pickwick Papers have been trans

lated in many languages,and read almost the world over. He has

vis i ted America twice ; the last t ime,in 1867, he gave a tour of

“ Readings "

through the country . His elocut ion is by no means

perfect,but his facial expression and gestures are inimi table. He is

at the head of novel ists in England.

FERRIER,MARY

,an Engl ish wri ter

,born in 1782 ; died in 1854.

FERN,FANNY (S arah PaysonWill is) , was born in Portland

,Me.

,in

181 1. Her father removed to Boston in 1817,and became the cd i

tor of the“ Recorder and the “ You th’s Compan ion.

"She was

educated at Har tford,at the celebrated sem inary of Catharine

Beecher. Harriet Beecher was at that t ime a teacher in the school.

Soon after leaving school , Miss Wi llis was married to Mr. Eldridge,

4 24 EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION .

of Boston ; but in a few years she found herself a widow, and de

pendent upon her own exertions for support. In 1851 her li terarylife began. For a long t ime the real name of the au thor of the

dash ing l i t tle sketches which appeared in various newspapers was

not known ; seventy thousand Oopies of Fern Leaves were sold in

in this country alone,and shortly afterward there were found thirty

two thousand purchasers for Li t tle Ferns. Ruth Hal l and Rose

Clark soon fo llowed,and our author was in a full t ide of prosperi ty .

In 1856, Fanny Fern was m arried to James Part on,the popular

biographer. For the last fifteen years she has wri t ten . for the

New York Ledger,never fai ling to furnish the stipulated art icle

each week.

GOUGH,JOHN B .

,a celebrated temperance orator. N 0 man in the

country is able to draw such crowds of people to his lectures,and

for years his popularity has been unabated.

GIBBON,EDWARD

,was born at Putney

,in Surry

,Eng. He wrote

the Decl ine and Fal l of the Roman Empire , and o ther historicalworks. He died at the house of Lord Sheffi eld

,in London

,Jan.

16,1794.

HALLECK,Frrz-GREENE

,an American poet

,who died in 1868. He

was associated wi th his friend, J. Rodman Drake,in wri t ing a series

of sprightly and somewhat sat i ri cal poems,ent i tled “ The Croak

ers,

” which at tracted considerable attention in the l i terary worldMarco Bozzaris, a mart ial lyric

,is undoubtedly his best product ion.

HAMILTON,GAIL. The real name of th is racy writer is Abigail

Dodge, and her home is at Ham il ton,Mass. She has wri t ten much

for the Atlant ic and other magazines,and has published

'

several vol

umes,which have been eagerly read by thousands of people.

HAWTHORNE,NATHANIEL

,was noted for the quaintness of his

writ ings and the puri ty of his language. He wrote much for theAt lant ic Monthly and other periodicals.

HAZLITT,WILLIAM

,was first a painter

,but

,fai ling of success in

art,he turned his attent ion to li terature. He was a nat ive of Eng

land,and died in London in 1830.


ers which ply up and down the river. It is a low cottage, coveredwi th ivy

,wh ich was brough t, originally, from Mel rose Abbey, and

planted by the master’s own hand. Irving is buried in the cem

etery at Tarry town, and a simple stone,a few feet in height, wi th

the brief inscript ion of his name and age, marks the spot.

JEFFERSON, THOMAS, a d istinguished American statesman, during

the period of the Revolution, author Of the Declaration of Independence

,and third Pres ident of the Uni ted States.

’

KNOWLES,JAMES SHERIDAN

,an Engl ish dramati c wri ter, born in

1794. His first play of Cains Gracchus was pe rformed in 1815.

LONGFELLOW,HENRY WADSWORTH, was born in Portland, Maine

,

in 1807. He was professor of modern languages and belle lett resat Harvard Uni vers i ty for many years. He resides at Cambridge,near Boston, and occupies a house which was origi nally Washington

'

s headquarters. Mr. L. has wri tten much poet ry,and some

prose, and his t ranslat ion of Dante throws a class i c haloa round hisname. He visi ted Europe in 1868

,returning in 1869. The poet

was enthusias tically received by the English people. His poetry isnot s tartling

,but is quaint and beaut iful.

LOWELL,JAMES RUSSELL, was born in Cambridge

,Mass , 1819.

He is now professor of modern language,rhetori c

,etc.,

at HarvardUni versi ty. As a humorist

,sat i rist

,or essayist

,he is deservedly

popular.

LOWELL,ROBERT, a writer of good repute, a member of the cele

brated fami ly by thi s name.

LAME, CHARLES, a poet and essayist

,born in London

,February

11,1775. His father was in humble circumstances

,and Charles

was presented with a scholarsh ip in Christ's Hospital. There was ataint of insani ty in the family

,and the poet himself was once con

fined for a few weeks in an asylum at Hox ton. His sister Mary

was insane at intervals, and he devoted his l ife to her comfort and

protect ion. In her lucid intervals,they wrote and published some

volumes conjointly. His style is quaint and fanciful. He died in1834

,and his poor sister survived him Only th ree y ears.

EXERCIS ES IN ELOCUTION . 427

MACAULAY,THos. BABINOTON

,an Engl ish Baron

,was born at Lei

ces tershire in 1800,and died at Kensington in 1859. He wrote a

H istory of England,which is deservedly popular. His Lays of

Ancient Rome have been great ly adm i red by lovers of class ic

poetry. He displayed brill iant powers,both in poli tics and l itera

ture.

MOTHERWELL, WILLIAM,a nat ive of Glasgow

, S cotland, born in1797. He assisted Hogg in edi t ing the works of Burns. He died

suddenly, at the age of thirty—eight.

PROCTER,BRYAN

,known in the reading world by the name of

Barry Cornwall. He published a small volume of dramatic scenes,

in 1815. His style is elegant and graceful.

PROCTER,ADELAIDE ANNE

,the‘

au thor ofLegends and Lyrics,pub

l ished in 1858. She was a daughter of Barry Cornwall,and a

nat ive of England.

PROCTOR, EDNA DEAN, was born in New Hampsh ire,but of late

y ears has made her resi dence in Brooklyn. Her war poems were

largely circulated in the newspapers of the t ime.

PIERPONT, Rev. JOHN, born at Li tchfield,Connecticut

,and died

in 1866. He wrote much upon reform ,and was noted for his radi

cal views.

PERCIVAI., JAMES GATES, was born in Kensington parish , i n the

town of Berlin, Connect icut , S eptember 15, 1795. As soon as the

alphabet was mastered, he seemed to have an insat iable thi rst for

knowledge, never engaging in play wi th his mates,bu t always por

ing over books or s tudy ing nature. We find the boy invoking the

muse with passionate pleadings, at the age of fourteen or fifteen

wri t ing somet imes in smooth , beau t iful rhythm,and then again

descending .to a chi ld ish doggerel. In 1811 he entered Yale Col

lege, New Haven, as a member of the Freshman'

s class, and in due

time completed the course of study in that inst i tu t ion. After'

leav

ing col lege he studied medicine, but his pract ice in the profess ion

was lim i ted to a few days. A mal ignant fever took away several

of his pat ients, and,shrinking from the respons ibi lity of holding


human l ives in his hands,our young phys ician closed hi s saddle

bags and resumed the pen. He was unsuccessful in business andunhappy in m ind, some t imes even attempt ing self- destruct ion. At

the l i t tle vi llage of Hazel Green. Wi sconsm,the poor poet lies

buried,and no s tone marks his grave.

POE,EDGAR

,

ALLAN. This strange,reckless son of genius first

saw the l ight in Bal t imore,in 1811. He died in a hospi tal in his

nat ive ci ty,at the early age of thi rty- eigh t.

READ,THOMAS BUCHANAN, is jus tly celebrated both as a painter

and a poet. He was born in Chester county,Pennsylvania, in

1822.

RUSKIN,JOHN

,art cri tic

,was born inLondon

,in 1809. The work

,

Modern Painters,by an Oxford Graduate,

"

was published whenthe au thor was but twenty- four years of age. Mr. Ruskin is themoving Spri t of the Pre- Raphael school of artis ts.

SAxE,JOHN G .

,is an American wri ter of humorous poetry. He

has also made some fine translat ions from the dead languages. He

was born in 18 15.

SCHENCH,ELLEN , was a y oung lady of rare scholarsh ip and prom

i se,a nat ive of Ful ton

,New York. She graduated at the Falley

S em inary,in that village

,in 1854 . She wrote many poem s which

gave a glimmering of what her capabil it ies m igh t be ; bu t the icy

finger of consumpt ion was laid upon her,and she died when

scarcely twenty years of age.

SCOTT,S ir WALTER

,was born in Edinburgh

,on the 15th 0 !

August,1771. He had the rare gift of wri t ing poetry and prose

wi th equal skill. He inaugurated a style of historic romance and

poetry which has had many imitators. He died in 1832.

SHAKSPEARE,WILLIAM

,born at S tratford on Avon

,England. As

a dramat ic wri ter,he has never been equalled and the versat i lity

of his knowledge and his skill in deli neat ion has been the wonderof the world for a century past .

SHELLEY PERCY BYSSHE, the son of a baronet of England,S ir

Timothy Shelley, of Cas tle Garring ; was born August 4, 1792.

430 EXERCI S ES IN E LOC UTION .

young ladies,at Hartford

,Connect icut . U ncle Tom'

s Cabin waspublished in 1852

,and nothing she has s ince wri t ten has been so

ex tens i vely read.

SWINBURN,ALGERNON CHARLES, au thor of the Greek tragedy,

A talanta in Caly don, etc.

TAYLOR, BAYARD, has wri tten books of travel, romance and poetry.

He has been engaged much as a publi c lecturer. He was born in

1824.

TAYLOR,BENJAMIN F.

,a nat i ve of Lowville, N . Y. ; is a popular

writer and lecturer.

TILTON,THEODORE

,a well known reformer, edi tor of the Inde

pendent

TROWBRIDGE,J. T. His nom de p lume, when writ ing juvenile

stories,is Father BrighthOpes. Darius Green and his Flying Ma

ch ine,inim i table in its roll icking humor, was wri tten for Our Young

Folks,March

,1866 ; and The Vagabonds has justly ach ieved a

great populari ty.

TENNYSON, ALFRED, the present poet- laureate of England,the son

of a Lincolnshire clergym an,was born in 1810. He gave prom ise

of superior talent in youth,taking a prize for a poem while s t ill an

undergraduate. He is known and loved as much in America as in

England. He writes carefully,reviewing and correct ing his proofs

many t imes.

TOEIN,JOHN

,wrote many plays

,which were rejected by mana

gers ; the Honeymoon being the first product ion of his pen whichwas accepted. The play has begi

,and st i ll is

,very popular

,but

the poor wri ter died wi thou t the pleasure of seeing i t performed.He was born at Salisbury

,in the year 1770, and died in 1804.

WILSON, FORCEYTHE, an American poet, who died in 1866.

WEBSTER,DANIEL

,celebrated as a statesman and orator.

Im'

son , fl i er/bem oan , Tay l or Co .’3

WOODB U RY’

S GERMAN COU RSE .

Founded on sim ilar principles w ith Fasquelle's sy stem.

'

ooa’bury’

s N ew Method w ith the Ger Woodbu ry's Eclect ic German Reader.

man. Woodbu ry'

s German En lish Reader.lVoodbury 3 Key to Above . Gla u éem klee

'

s G erman eader.Woodbu ry

’

s Shorter C ourse with the Ger G la ubem klee’

: Sy nthet ic German Gramman. mar.

Woodbxwy’

r Key to the Shorter Course . S a nderr’ Germ an and Eng lish Primer.Woodbu ry

'

s M ethod forGermans t o learn M es: !a Sa uders' Phonet ic Speller.

Engli sh. M es: 67' S ame’ers

'German Speller and

Waodbury'

: Elementary GermanReader. Reader.0

PROGRESSIVE SPA/V/S/I READERS .

Bv PROF. L . F. MANTILLA.

Libro de Lecture . N o . x. Libro de Lecture . N o. 2 .

L ibro de Lectura. N o. 3.

These Readers are prepared for Schools in theWest Ind ia Islands , Mexico , andSpanish South American S tates.

G R E E K .

Kuhner’s E lementa ry Greek Grammar.

Quest ions on Kuhner

's E lementary G reek Grammar.

endrick’

s G reek Introduct ionSpencer's Greek Funds . A new primary book.

y US T READY.

FIRST STEPS IN MU SIC .

BY G EO. B . LOOM IS .

A simple and graded course of instruct ion in Voca l Music for Common Schools,adapted to primary classes . I n Fou r books .

THE AMERICAN PRIMARYSCHOOL SLATES.A novelty ,

furnish ing to the pup il employment , amu sement , and instruction inexercises of the highest importance.

0

I N P RE S S

ASOHOOLHISTORYOFTHE UNITED STATES.

FROM THE EARLrEs-

r DISCOVERIES To THE PRES ENT TIMB .

BY WM . SWINTON .

This work is methodical l y arranged w ith a vi ew to definite results in recita tion,

and accom panied by com rehens ive rev iews su ited to Impar t a.

knowled e of the

cau ses and connect ions 0 the events of American Hi story , and 13 fu ll y ustrated

w ith portrai ts , maps , plans , &c.

9 13“

THE ILLU STRATED CATALOGUE , descriptive of THE Am ateu r

EDUCATIONAL SERIES OF SCHOOL AND COLLEG E Tax'

r- Booxs , and.

THE EDUCATIONAL

REPORTER, a handsome publi cat ion fu l l of usefu l information,mai led free to teachers .

IV/SO/V. TAYLOR OOP U B L I S H E R S ,

i38 140 Grand Street , New York.l R! s t a t e: .Qh 'a o ‘ PM “

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