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tion. Reproof.




The speech of Sin to Satan, to prevent a hostile encounter
between the latter and Death.

"O father, what intends thy hand," she cried,
Against thy only son? What fury, O son,

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Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart

Against thy father's head? And know'st for whom ;
For Him who sits above and laughs the while
At thee ordain'd his drudge, to execute
Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids;
His wrath; which one day will destroy ye both.”
She spoke, and at her words the hellish pest
Forbore, then these to her Satan return'd:


Surprise. 'So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange Thou interposest, that my sudden hand

Recollection Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds




What it intends; till first I know of thee,

What thing thou art, thus double form'd and why
In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st
Me father, and that phantasm call'st my son,
I know thee not; nor ever saw, till now,
Sight more detestable than him and thee."


Hamlet's soliloquy upon his finding that the king, his father, was murdered by his uncle; in which he considers the consequence of putting an end to a burdensome life.—Shakspeare. To be, -or not to be? 1. -that is the question— Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune; Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

1 "To be, or not to be." The thought, at length, would run thus: "Is death the total destruction of consciousness? Or do the dead still continue to think and act, though in a different manner from that of the present state?" The thought in the second line is different, viz., "Whether is it truly heroic to put an end to life when it becomes irksome ?"

And by opposing, end them.—To die—to sleep—
No more and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to:-'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd—To die—to sleep—

To sleep?-perchance to dream-ay, there's the rub!
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
pangs of love despis'd, the laws' delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns,
That patient merit of the unworthy takes;
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels2 bear,
And groan and sweat under a weary life?
But that the dread of something after death
(That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne 3
No traveller returns) puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others, which we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.

1 "But to die-to sleep-no more."

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The pauses must be equal. The sense at length being, "Is dying only falling asleep, and nothing else?"

2 Fardels." That is, burdens.

8"Whose bourne." That is, border, or boundary.

Deep thoughtfulness. Vexation.

Thoughtfulness. Apprehension.



a Meekness.
b Aversion.








Macbeth, full of his bloody design against good King Duncan,
fancies he sees a dagger in the air.-Shakspeare.

Is this a dagger, which I see before me,
The handle tow'rd my hand?


Come, let me clutch

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable,

As this which now I draw

Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' th' other senses,
Or else worth all the rest- -I see thee still;
And on thy blade and dudgeon, gouts1 of blood,
Doubting. Which was not so before.—There's no such thing.—
It is the bloody business, which informs





Thus to mine eyes- -Now o'er one half the world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings: and midnight murder,
Thus with his stealthy pace, tow'rds his design
Moves like a ghost-Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout;

And take the present horror from the time

Which now suits with it—While I threat, he lives-
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me—[Bell rings]
Hear it not, Duncan! for it is a knell

That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.

1" Gouts." That is, drops.



WE shall commence this part of our Compilation with the PASSAGES which Walker has used in illustrating his "Description of the Passions." While approving generally of the plan adopted in "The Art of Speaking," he thought that it would be an improvement upon it "to subjoin EXAMPLES to each PASSION and EMOTION, which contain scarcely any passion or emotion but that described; and that by thus keeping one passion in view at a time, the pupil would more easily acquire the imitation of it than by passing suddenly to those passages where they are scattered promiscuously in small portions." As his "Descriptions of the Passions" are based upon those given in "The Art of Speaking,"we shall omit them for the reasons which we have already assigned (page 81). The most of the "Examples," however, which he has given in illustration of them, we shall

"This is the case," he adds, "with the author to whom I am so much indebted for the description of the passions, and with those who have servilely copied him. The instance of a single passion which I have selected may be augmented at pleasure; and when the pupil has acquired the expression of each passion singly, he should analyze his composition, and carefully mark it with the several passions, emotions, and sentiments it contains, by which means he will distinguish and separate what is often mixed and confounded, and be prompted to force and variety at almost every sentence. I am well aware, that the passions are sometimes so slightly touched, and often melt so insensibly into each other, as to make it somewhat difficult precisely to mark their boundaries; but this is no argument against our marking them where they are distinct and obvious, nor against our suggesting them to those who may not be quite so clear-sighted as ourselves."-Elements of Elocution.


insert here, because we consider them peculiarly well adapted for EXERCISES in READING. We have also added several other PASSAGES illustrative of the emotions of the mind, tones of voice, and different styles of reading.


Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The seasons' difference; as the icy fang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say,
This is no flattery; these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity,

Which, like the toad, ugly and venemous,

Wears yet a precious jewel in its head;

And this our life exempt from public haunts,

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.

As You Like It.


BUT come, thou Goddess, fair and free,
In heav'n yclep'd Euphrosyne,
And of men heart-easing Mirth;
Whom lovely Venus at a birth,
With two sister Graces more,
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore:
Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful Jollity,

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