Instant low murmurs rose, and many a sword WHITE. THE SAME, CONTINUED. "YE powers of hell, I am no coward. I proved this of old. Who led your forces against the armies of Jehovah? Who coped with Ithuriel, and the thunders of the Almighty? Who, when stunned and confused ye lay on the burning lake, who first awoke and collected your scattered powers? Lastly, who led you across the unfathomable abyss to this delightful world, and established that reign here which now totters to its base? How, therefore, dares yon treacherous fiend to cast a stain on Satan's bravery? He, who preys only on the defenseless who sucks the blood of infants, and delights only in acts of ignoble cruelty and unequal contention! Away with the boaster who never joins in action; but, like a cormorant, hovers over the field, to feed upon the wounded and overwhelm the dying. True bravery is as remote from rashness as from hesitation. Let us counsel coolly, but let us execute our counseled purposes determinately. In power, we have learned by that experiment which lost us heaven, that we are inferior to the thunder-bearer: in subtilty-in subtilty alone, we are his equals. Open war is impossible. Thus shall we pierce our conqueror through the race Of cities fired! our fifes, the shrieks that fill the air!" MARULLUS TO THE MOB. WHEREFORE rejoice that Cæsar comes in triumph? WHITE. What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! And do you now put on your best attire ? Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, SHAKSPEARE. SPEECH OF RAAB KIUPRILI. HEAR me, Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria, Or one false whisper in his sovereign's ear? A bought-bribed wretch, who, being called my son, A recreant ingrate ! What means this clamor? Are these madmen's voices? And Heaven's inevitable curse hereafter? Your thaw-swollen torrents, when the shouldering ice COLERIDGE. THE SEMINOLE'S REPLY. BLAZE, with your serried columns ! I've mailed it with the thunder, When the tempests muttered low, The lightning of its blow! I've scared ye in the city, I've scalped ye on the plain; I scorn your proffered treaty! Revenge is stamped upon my spear, Some strike for hope of booty, To see the white man fall: Ye've trailed me through the forest, Ye've tracked me o'er the stream, I loathe ye in my bosom, I scorn ye with mine eye, And I'll taunt ye with my latest breath, slave, I ne'er will ask ye quarter, G. W. PATTEN. EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH OF MR. BURKE. SINCE I had the honor, I should say, the dishonor, of sitting in this house, I have been witness to many strange, many infamous transactions. What can be your intention in attacking all honor and virtue? Do you mean to bring all men to a level with yourselves, and to extirpate all honor and independence? Perhaps you imagine a vote will settle the whole controversy. Alas! you are not aware that the manner in which your vote is procured is a secret to no man. Listen: for if you are not totally callous, if your consciences are not seared, I will speak daggers to your souls, and wake you to all the hell of guilty recollection. I will follow you with whips and stings, through every maze of your unexampled turpitude, and plant thorns under the rose of ministerial approbation. You have flagrantly vio lated justice and the law of the land, and opened a door for anarchy and confusion. After assuming an arbitrary dominion over law and justice, you issue orders, warrants, and proclamations, against every opponent, and send prisoners to your Bastile all those who have the courage and virtue to defend the freedom of their country. But it is in vain that you hope by fear and terror to extinguish the native British fire. The more sacrifices, the more martyrs you make, the more numerous the sons of liberty will become. They will multiply like the hydra, and hurl vengeance on your heads. Let others act as they will; while I have a tongue, or an arm, they shall be free. And that may not be a witness of these monstrous proceedings, I will leave the house; nor do I doubt but every independent, every honest man, every friend to England, will follow me. I These walls are unholy, baleful, deadly, while a prostitute majority holds the bolt of parliamentary power, and hurls its vengeance only upon the virtuous. To yourselves, therefore, I consign you. Enjoy your pandemonium! THE INDIGNATION OF CONSTANCE. A WICKED day, and not a holy-day! This day of shame, oppression, perjury; Resembling majesty; which, being touched, and tried, |