preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending; if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained'; we must fight! I repeat it', WE MUST FIGHT! An appeal to arms and the God of Hosts, is all that is left us.

6. They tell us, that we are weak'; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week', or the next year'? Will it be, when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house'? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction'? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs', and hugging the delusive phantom of hope', until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot'! We are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means', which the God of nature hath placed in our power.

7. Three millions of people', armed in the holy cause of liberty', and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, we shall not fight our battles—alone'. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations'; and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant —the active-the brave'. Besides, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest'. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged'. Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston'! The war is inevitable'; and let it come! I repeat it, LET IT COME`!

Gentlemen

8. It is in vain to extenuate the matter. may cry peace', peace'; but there is no peace. The war is actually begun. The next gale that sweeps from the north, will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms`! Our brethren' are already in the field! Why stand we-here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish`? What would they have? Is life so dear', or peace so sweet', as to be purchased at the price of chains' and slavery? Forbid it Almighty

Gōd! I know not what course others' may take; but as for me', give me liberty, or GIVE ME DEATH.

REMARK. In the above extract, may be found an illustration of most of the principles of emphasis.

The most important emphatic words and pauses only, are marked. On this point, there is always room for difference of opinion. Scarcely any two persons would pronounce a sentence with precisely the same emphasis. Observe, in the above lesson, the all-controlling power of emphasis in determining to the falling inflection. The words "see," "hear," and "my," in the first paragraph, the word "that" in the second, and "spurned" and "contempt" in the fourth paragraph, are examples of this. Let the reader remember that a high degree of emphasis is sometimes expressed by a whisper.

XXXIV. VANITY OF LIFE.

FROM HERDER'S HEBREW POETRY.

1. MAN, born of woman,

Is of few days,

And full of trouble.

He cometh forth as a flower, and is cut down';
He fleeth also as a shadow,

And continueth not.

2. Upon such dost thou open thine eye,
And bring me unto judgment with thee?
Among the impure is there one pure?
Not one'.

3. Are his days so determined'?

Hast thou numbered his months',
And set fast his bounds for him,
Which he can never pass'?

Turn' then from him that he may rest,
And enjoy', as an hireling', his day`.

4. The tree hath hope', if it be cut down,
It becometh green' again,

And new shoots are put forth.

If even the root is old in the earth,
And its stock die in the ground,
From vapor of water it will bud,
And bring forth boughs as a young plant.

5. But man dieth, and his power is gone; He is taken away, and where is he`?

6. Till the waters waste from the sea,

Till the river faileth and is dry land,
Man lieth low, and riseth not again.

Till the heavens are old, he shall not awake,
Nor be aroused from his sleep.

7. O that thou wouldst conceal me

In the realm of departed souls'!

Hide me in secret, till thy wrath be past`;
Appoint me then a new term,

And remember me again.

But alas! if a man die',
Shall he live again?

8. So long, then, as my toil endureth,
Will I wait till a change come to me.
Thou wilt call' me, and I shall answer`;
Thou wilt pity the work of thy hands.
Though now thou numberest my steps',
Thou shalt then not watch for my sin.
My transgression will be sealed in a bag',
Thou wilt bind up and remove my iniquity.

9. Yet alas! the mountain falleth and is swallowed up, The rock is removed out of its place,

The waters hollow out the stones',

The floods overflow the dust of the earth',
And thus, thou destroyest the hope of man.

10. Thou contendest with him, till he faileth',

Thou changest his countenance, and sendeth him away
Though his sons become great and happy',

Yet he knoweth it not;

If they come to shame` and dishonor`,
He perceiveth it not`.

XXXV. THE MARINER'S DREAM.

FROM DIMOND.

In this and some following Lessons, the principles applicable to the reading of poetry are illustrated.

1. IN slumbers of midnight || the sailor-boy lay;

His hammock | swung loose || at the sport of the wind;
But watch-worn | and weary, || his cares | flew away,
And visions of happiness || danced o'er his mind.

2. He dreamed of his home, || of his dear native bowers,
And pleasures that waited || on life's merry morn;
While Memory each scene || gayly covered with flowers,
And restored every rose, || but secreted the thorn.

3. Then Fancy her magical pinions || spread wide,
And bade the young dreamer || in ecstasy rise;
Now, far, far behind him || the green waters glide,
And the cot of his forefathers || blesses his eyes.

4. The jessamine clambers || in flowers o'er the thatch,
And the swallow sings sweet || from her nest in the wall
All trembling with transport || he raises the latch,
And the voices of loved ones || reply to his call.

5. A father bends o'er him || with looks of delight;
His cheek is impearled || with a mother's warm tear;
And the lips of the boy || in a love-kiss unite

With the lips of the maid || whom his bosom holds dear

6. The heart of the sleeper || beats high in his breast;

Joy quickens his pulse, || all his hardships seem o'er; And a murmur of happiness || steals through his rest"O God! thou hast blest me, || I ask for no more."

7. Ah! whence is that flame || which now bursts on his eye? Ah! what is that sound || that now 'larums his ear? Tis the lightning's red glare || painting hell on the sky! 'Tis the crashing of thunders, || the groan of the sphere

8. He springs from his hammock, || he flies' to the deck;
Amazement confronts him || with images dire;
Wild winds and mad waves || drive the vessel a wreck,

The masts fly in splinters, || the shrouds are on fire.

9. Like mountains the billows || tumultuously swell; In vain the lost wretch' || calls on Mercy to save; Unseen hands of spirits || are ringing his knell',

And the death-angel flaps || his broad wings o'er the wave!

10. O sailor-boy', || woe to thy dream of delight!

In darkness || dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss;
Where now is the picture || that Fancy touched bright;
Thy parents' fond pressure, || and love's honeyed kiss?

11. O sailor-boy'! sailor-boy'! || never again

Shall home, love, or kindred, || thy wishes repay;
Unblessed and unhonored, || down deep in the main,
Full many a score fathom, || thy frame shall decay.

12. No tomb shall e'er plead || to remembrance for thee',
Or redeem form or fame || from the merciless surge,
But the white foam of waves || shall thy winding-sheet be,
And winds, in the midnight || of winter, thy dirge.

13. On a bed of green sea-flowers, || thy limbs shall be laid
Around thy white bones, || the red coral shall grow;
Of thy fair yellow locks || threads of amber be made',
And every part suit || to thy mansion below.

14. Days', months', years', and ages' || shall circle away,
And still the vast waters || above thee shall roll;

Earth loses thy pattern || forever and aye;

O sailor-boy' sailor-boy'! || peace to thy soul!

XXXVI. THE SOLDIER'S REST.

FROM WALTER SCOTT.

SIR WALTER SCOTT was born at Edinburgh, in 1771. After his admission to the Scottish bar, he determined to devote himself to literary pursuits, and his path to fame was opened by the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. After the publication of some original poems, he chose a new department of literature, and, concealing his name, commenced the series called the Waverly Novels. He also produced several historical works. He died at Abbotsford, in 1832.

Pibroch; a wild, irregular species of music peculiar to the Highlands. Reveille, (pro. re-vāl'ya); signal for mustering.

1. SOLDIER', rest! || thy warfare o'er',

Sleep the sleep || that knows not breaking;