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of beauty and ornament is poured forth on the face of nature! What a magnificent spectacle presented to the view of man! What supply contrived for his wants ! What a variety of objects set before him to gratify his senses, to employ his understanding, to entertain his imagination, to cheer and gladden his heart! Indeed, the very existence of the universe is a standing memorial of the goodness of the Creator.

EXERCISE XIII.

RULE 10. When excessive joy is accompanied by strong excitement, it should be read on an elevated key, and sometimes even on the shouting pitch, with the prevailing falling inflection.

Excessive Joy.
1. Ye crags and peaks, I'm with you once again!

I hold to you the hands you first beheld,
To show they still are free. Methinks I hear
A spirit in your echoes answer me,
And bid your tenant welcome to his home
Again! O sacred forms, how proud ye look!
How high you

heads into the sky!
How huge you are! how mighty and how free!
Ye are the things that tower, that shine, whose smile
Makes glad, whose frown is terrible, whose forms,
Robed or unrobed, do all the impress wear
Of awe divine. Ye guards of liberty !
I'm with you once again!—I call to you
With all my voice! I hold my hands to you
To show they still are free. I rush to you,
As though I could embrace you!

lift
your

QUESTION. What is the rule for excessive joy accompanied by strong excite ment!

2. Go ring the bells, and fire the guns,

And fling the starry banner out;
Shout “Freedom !” till your lisping ones

Give back their cradle shout:
Let boasted eloquence declaim

Of honor, liberty, and fame;
Still let the poet's strain be heard,

With “ Glory” for each second word,
And every thing with breath agree

To praise our glorious liberty !

Shouting and Narrative.

Narrative.

An hour passed on; the Turk awoke;

That bright dream was his last;
He woke - to hear his sentry's shriek,

Shouting.
“ To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!”

Narrative.

He woke - to die 'midst flame, and smoke,
And shout, and groan, and saber-stroke,

And death-shots falling thick and fast
As lightnings from the mountain-cloud;
And heard, with voice as trumpet loud,
Bozzaris * cheer his band :

Shouting.
« Strike - till the last armed foe expires ;
Strike - for

your

altars and your fires; Strike - for the green graves of your sires ;

God, and your native land !”

• Boz-zar”-is, (Marco,) a Grecian commander, who fell in an attack on the Terke at Lapsi, August 20th, 1823. He expired in the moment of victory.

EXERCISE XIV. RULE 11. The language of anger, vexation, excessive bodily pain, unsuppressed fear, alarm, and terror, is loud, high, vehement, and rapid in movement, varying, however, according to the intensity of excitement. The falling inflection prevails in the expression of these emotions.

NOTE. The language of suspicion, apprehension, and suppressed fear, usually requires a suppressed voice, or an aspirated under-tone, combined with the tremor or intermittent stress.

am.

Impatience, Anger, and Contempt.
Brutus. Go to; you are not Cassius.*
Cassius. I
Bru. I say you are not.

Cas. Urge me no more; I shall forget myself :
Have mind upon your health; tempt me no further.

Bru. Away, slight man!
Cas. Is’t possible?

Bru, Hear me, for I will speak.
Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frightened when a madman stares ?

Cas. Must I endure all this?
Bru. All this? ay, more. Fret till your proud heart

break:
Go, show your slaves how choleric you are,
And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge?
Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humor ?

QUESTION. What is the rule for the language of anger, vexation, fear, alarm, and termor?

. Cas'si-us, (Caius,) the friend of Brutus, and a conspirator against Cæsar.

You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Though it do split you; for from this day forth,
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are waspish.

Cas. Is it come to this?

Bru. You say, you are a better soldier:
Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me well. For mine own part,
I shall be glad to learn of noble men.

Cas. You wrong me every way — you wrong ine, Brutus:
I said an elder soldier, not a better:
Did I say better?

Bru. If you did, I care not.
Cas. When Cæsar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.
Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him.
Cas. I durst not?
Bru. No.
Cas. What! durst not tempt him?
Bru. For

life
you

durst not.
Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love;
I
may
do that I shall be

sorry

for. Bru. You have done that

you

should be sorry for.
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats ;
For I am armed so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind
Which I respect not. I did send to you
For certain sums of gold, which you denied me;-
For I can raise no money by vile means :
I had rather coin my heart,
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash,
By any indirection! I did send
To you for gold to pay my legions,
Which

you denied me.

Was that done like Cassius?

your

Should I have answered Caius Cassius so?
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts,
Dash him to pieces !

Cas. I denied you not.
Bru. You did.

Cas. I did not; - he was but a fool
That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart.
A friend should bear a friend's infirmities;
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Bru. I do not, till you practice them on me.
Cas. You love me not.
Bru. I do not like your

faults.
Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults.

Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they did appear As huge as high Olympus.*

Pain, Alarm, and Unsuppressed Fear. 1. Search there; nay, probe me; search my

wounded reins,
Pull - draw it out-
Oh! I am shot! A forked, burning arrow
Sticks across my shoulders; the sad venom flies
Like lightning through my flesh, my blood, my marrow.
Ha! what a change of torments I endure !
A bolt of ice runs hissing through my body;
'T is sure, the arm of death; give me a chair;
Cover me, for I freeze, my whole frame shakes ;

Oh! 't is death! 't is death!
2. But ere we could arrive the point proposed,

Cæsar cried," Help me, Cassius, or I sink.”

O-lym'pas, a celebrated mountain in Thessaly, the top of which, Homer repm. Bonts as the dwelling of the gods.

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