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3.

4.

Cry out against them.

But this very day,

An honest man, my neighbor, there he stands,
Was struck, struck like a dog, by one who wore
The badge of Ursin; because, forsooth,
He toss'd not high his ready cap in air,
Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts,
At sight of that great ruffian! Be we men,
And suffer such dishonor-men, and wash not
The stain away in blood? Such shames are common.
I have known deeper wrongs-I, that speak to ye,
I had a brother once, a gracious boy,

Full of gentleness, of calmest hope,

Of sweet and quiet joy-there was the look
Of heaven upon his face, which limners give
To the beloved disciple!

How I lov'd
That gracious boy! Younger by fifteen years,
Brother at once, and son! He left my side,
A summer bloom on his fair cheek, a smile
Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour
That pretty harmless boy was slain! I saw
The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried
For vengeance! Rouse ye, Romans!—ROUSE YE, SLAVES!
Have ye brave sons? Look in the next fierce brawl
To see them die. Have ye fair daughters? Look
To see them live, torn from your arms, distained,
Dishonored; and if ye dare call for justice,
Be answered by the lash.

That sat on her seven hills,

Yet this is Rome,

and, from her throne

Of beauty, ruled the world! Yet we are Romans!
Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman,

Was greater than a king!

And once again,—

Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread
Of either Brutus! Once again I swear,

The eternal city shall be free.

The above address was written by Miss Mary Russel Mitford, and it is a most admirable piece for an elocutionary exercise. It requires sudden transitions of voice; in other words, the high, low, and middle keys of the

voice are all heard in it. The talent displayed in the composition of the address, exhibits evidence of the high intellectual endowments of the writer. It shows, moreover, that ladies may wield as powerful a pen as men.

17. ADDRESS TO THE OCEAN.-Byron.

1. Oh! that the desert were my dwelling place,
With one fair spirit for my minister,
That I might all forget the human race,
And, hating no one, love but only her!
Ye elements! in whose ennobling stir
I feel myself exalted-can ye not
Accord me such a being? Do I err
In deeming such inhabit many a spot?
Though, with them to converse, can rarely be our lot.

2. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but nature more
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

3. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin-his control
Stops with the shore;-upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.

4. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,

Calm or convulsed-in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole; or in the torrid clime

Dark heaving;-boundless, endless, and sublime—
The image of eternity-the throne

Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime

The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

5. And I have lov'd thee, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports, was, on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy
I wanton'd with thy breakers;-they to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror-'twas a pleasing fear
For I was, as it were, a child of thee,
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane—as 1 do here.

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6. My task is done-my song hath ceased-my theme
Hath died into an echo; 'tis fit

The spell should break of this protracted dream.
The torch shall be extinguished which hath lit
My midnight lamp-and what is writ, is writ,-
Would it were worthier! but I am not now
That which I have been-and my visions flit
Less palpably before me-and the glow

Which in my spirit dwelt, is fluttering, faint, and low

George Gordon Byron, a nobleman of England, was born at Londo January 23, 1788, and died at Missilonghi, in Greece, April 20, 1824. His poetry relates to a great variety of subjects, and is of the highest literary order. At the early age of thirty-six, Lord Byron fell a martyr in the cause of freedom, while assisting the Greeks, in their virtuous struggle to throw off the shackles of despotism. It is a matter of regret, that his moral habits were not, in all respects, correct, and that some of his writings are apparently hostile to the pure principles of christianity. His address to the ocean is from "Childe Harold." It should be given on a middle key, with slow time, and long quantity. Elocution requires that it be so read or recited as to call up all the internal feelings which animated the author at the time he wrote it, in the minds of both reader and hearer.

18. SPEECH OF HENRY V. TO HIS TROOPS, BEFORE THE GATES OF HARFLEUR.-Shakspeare.

1. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead!

In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man,
As modest stillness and humility;

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of a tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let it pry through the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it,
As fearfully as doth a galled rock

O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swilled with the wide and wasteful ocean.

2. Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostrils wide;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height !-On, ON, ye noble English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought,
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,

3.

And teach them how to war!

And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear

That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot;
Follow your spirit; and, upon this charge,
Cry-God for Harry! England! and Saint George!

In the third line of the second verse of King Henry's speech, a rhetorical pause should be made, after uttering the word, "full,” thus:

"To its full height."

Rhetorical pauses should generally be short,-the quaver rest in music, is about their duration of time. They should however be longer or shorter, according to their sense.

The object of the king was to stimulate his subjects to fight in his behalf; and his speech, excepting the third and fourth lines, requires a quick rate of utterance, and a very high key.

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19. THE GRAVE.-James Montgomery.

1. There is a calm for those who weep,
A rest for weary pilgrims found;
They softly lie, and sweetly sleep,
Low in the ground.

2. The storm that wrecks the wintry sky,
No more disturbs their deep repose,
Than summer evening's latest sigh,

That shuts the rose

3. I long to lay this painful head
And aching heart, beneath the soil;
To slumber in that dreamless bed,
From all my toil.

4. For misery stole me at my birth,
And cast me helpless on the wild ;
I perish; O my mother earth,

Take home thy child.

These elegant lines from Montgomery's beautiful poem, should be read or recited, on a very low key, with slow time, and long quantity. Rhetorical pauses should be made in the last line of each verse, after uttering the words, "low," "shuts," "all," and "home."

20. EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE ON THE GENIUS AND CHARACTER OF THE REV. HORACE HOLLEY.-Dr. Caldwell.

1. He sickened during the darkness and roar of a tempest, as fierce as the delirium by which his great intellect was destined to be shattered; and which shook, for a time, surrounding nature with a tumult as appalling, as the fearful convulsions amidst which he expired.

2. And he died after a short illness at sea, in the meridian of life, remote from medical aid, and from all connections and intimate friends, that might have soothed his sufferings and ministered to his wants; was attended in his sickness only by strangers, who were destitute alike of skill and means to

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